Stay Alive Till Morning
by Drama-freakz
Summary: An outbreak of the "Green Flu" has infected most of the world's population; causing people to attack, devour, and mutilate friends and family. Iain, Alfred, and Arthur now have to survive a world gone mad. Warning: Blood, gore, language. Character deaths
1. The Night It Began

**Warning: Blood, guts, gore, zombies, murder, and Scotland. You have been warned. Oh Yes…beware of Scotland. **

**What else am I supposed to add?**

**Oh Yeah…**

**Don't own Hetalia yadayadayada**

**This was written by both my sister Hiztorybuff313 and me. So give her some credit too I guess.**

**Names that will be probably a bit confusing:**

**Iain = Scotland**

**William = Wales **

**Irene = Ireland (you can pick North/South)**

The drive between his bustling inner city apartment and his mother's quaint country home was only about fifteen minutes. The short drive was something he was generally happy with, it made it easier to drive home after getting completely smashed while at his mother's house.

Iain leaned against the window of his oversized pickup truck and waited for the light to turn that wonderful green color while impatiently, he tapped his slim fingers against the plastic of the steering wheel with a scowl that could curdle milk. Finally the light relented, and he pressed his foot against the gas pedal deterring a pedestrian from crossing the street with a blare of his horn. About two more minutes and he would be at his mother's and stuck in yet another of her 'lovely' family dinners.

Iain's destination finally rolled into view and he saw Arthur, his younger brother, step out of his small convertible and begin to make his way up the driveway. Pulling in right behind the petite car Iain slipped out and followed Arthur's footsteps up the driveway.

His younger brother was wearing one of his ridiculous sweater vests over a cream colored button down. His brown slacks wiped around his skinny little legs as the wind from an oncoming storm blasted around them.

"Hey, Iggy!" Iain called, as if his brother hadn't noticed his arrival. The blond turned around to meet his eyes.

"Hello Iain." He nodded curtly, receiving a smirk in return. "Ah…I can see that you didn't bring anything to eat like mum asked you to. Again." He snapped, a large bushy eyebrow lifting at the edge in a condescending fashion.

"Nah." Iain shrugged, "You guys bring enough food." He opened the door and let both himself and the smaller man get into the front door.

"Hello!" Their mother, one Lillian Kirkland, called from the kitchen. The two followed her voice and moved into the kitchen.

"Hi." Iain said simply before heading towards the cabinet to fetch a beer. Hearing a tut from behind him he turned, the amber liquid clutched in his hand tightly. "What?" He demanded one of his blood red eyebrows lifting skeptically, his mother shook her head and rubbed her temples,

"How many of those have you had today, love?" She asked, not turning from the boiling pot of soup in front of her.

"About three." Iain responded and popped open the cap with the pocketknife his kept on his person without another thought.

"You're going to kill yourself." Irene, his only sister and biggest pain in his neck, growled as she stepped through the front door. "Hello mum." She smiled, giving her mother a peck on the cheek before draping her bulky, tan, winter jacket over one of the chairs.

"Ah, shut up." Iain scoffed irritably as he settled down next to where Irene had set her coat. "Where's William?" He asked looking blankly at the bottle in front of him.

"He was picking something up at the market." Arthur told him, "He said he'd be a bit late." Iain chuckled at this as he sat backwards in one of the familiar oak chairs.

"I'm usually the late one." He smiled triumphantly. "Looks like Willie is finally taking after his big brother."

"Heaven forbid." His mother sighed almost silently.

"Yes, well it seems Alfred is late as well." Arthur chirped

"Ah, so you're bringing the little shit?" Iain chuckled. Arthur nodded with a sigh, ignoring the rude comment out of habit.

"Yes. I'm bringing Alfred." Arthur said, "There, that must be him now." He smiled gesturing as headlights flashed in from the front window. A bright red, white, and blue sports car pulled into the driveway with the rev of a powerful engine before falling silent as the owner stepped free from the driver's seat and entered the house without taking the effort to knock.

"'Sup guys?" Alfred asked as he slipped in through the front door, accepting the hug offered by Lillian and a kiss on the cheek from Irene.

"Hello." Arthur waved from his spot at the table. Alfred went to join him, plopping down in the chair directly besides him.

"It's damn cold outside, huh?" Alfred smiled and hoisted a grocery bag onto the table. "I brought some chili…" He grinned and looked over at the other array of foods that were brought by Irene and Arthur: A vegetable dip from Irene and an attempt at scones from Arthur. "Looks like I fit in fine." He chuckled and popped open the plastic lid to the store bought food.

"If yours is edible then ah'll gladly eat it." Iain smirked, ignoring the glare from Arthur as he tossed Alfred a beer. "Drink up little man."

"I'm as tall as…never mind." Alfred went to protest before Arthur shot him a warning glance. "Thanks." He tried again before looking up at his hostess with a smile. "Thanks for letting me join you guys for dinner, Ms. Kirkland." The woman smiled over her shoulder,

"Not a problem at all, love. It's about time Arthur made friends at that blasted academy that aren't hooligans. I'd had just about enough of those leather pants and flashy jewelry." Arthur flushed at the comment holding his head between his hands as his siblings began to cackle knowingly.

"No one says hooligans anymore, mum. Besides…I haven't worn any of that since high school!" He protested, elbowing his snickering brother in the chest when the man made a face.

"What haven't you worn since high school?" Alfred demanded curiously, grinning at the flushed look on Arthur's face.

"Now there's a collection of pictures I'd love to pull out again!" Iain cheered outright, smacking his brother on the back of the head.

"Please…please no." Arthur begged mournfully.

"Now, leave your brother alone Iain. Honestly, can't we have a quiet dinner for once?" His mother demanded harshly, smacking the redhead on the skull with one of the spoons she was stirring the soup with.

"Fine, fine, but after dinner is free game." Iain cackled, wincing as the spoon struck his skull a second time.

"Boys." Irene rolled her eyes, flicking through a newspaper lying folded on her mother's table."Mum have you read anything on this new pandemic that's making it's way through Europe?" She demanded tapping a picture over an article titled 'The Green Flu Strikes London.' with a worried frown on her lips.

"If I worried about every flu that the CDC called a pandemic I would be so shot up with vaccines that I would most likely end up in my own little hole, right next to your father." Lillian sighed at the mention of her late husband. "Oh enough of that." She decided, pulling herself from ugly memories, "Come now, you lot best start setting the table otherwise you'll be eating on the couch again." Iain didn't budge at this,

"I'm pretty damn used to eating on the couch." Iain's grumbles were once again ignored but they didn't force him to help as he sat back in his chair while the other three began scurrying around the kitchen to fetch a tablecloth and other necessities for the table. Ms. Kirkland let out a sigh and began to pull a large loaf of bread out of the oven.

"Oh please, someone call William. He's not usually this late for supper!" She ordered as she placed the bread onto a few towels that were spread on top of the counter. "Irene, be a dear? The phone's in the other room." She glanced up at the carrot top with mock-pleading eyes.

"No need mum." Arthur sighed as another flash of headlights came into view, "I think he's here-" Arthur cut off as the headlights didn't go off, but instead swerved out of the driveway and back into the street. "I guess not." He mumbled continuing to place a napkin at one of the spots on the table. "It looked like his car." He muttered to himself,

"Looks like Iggy will be needin' some glasses soon." Iain chuckled, causing Arthur to turn as red as the tomato their mother was now slicing for the salad, "But I have to say that the car had a fancy paint job." Iain nodded in approval, the group sent him a few looks, "They painted it to make it look like there was blood on the front." He explained with a toothy grin, "I want that paint job."

"Oh, hush!" Ms. Kirkland snapped, "Dear that paint job would look hideous on your car... it's too old." Iain snorted in disagreement but kept his mouth shut when he received a glare from his mother.

The table was entirely set before Irene actually went into the living room to call William. She dialed the numbers and pressed the phone to her ear. It rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Finally, after a few more rings, the line went to Williams voice mail.

"Not answering, mum." She called into the other room, "I'll try again." With that a flash of headlights rumbled into the driveway and a loud clunking engine stuttered to a stop. William literally leapt out of the car and ran for the door. Irene raised an eyebrow.

Iain sat back in his chair with a sigh and unbuttoned the top of his pure-white shirt. The front door swung open with a bang and William's distressed call for for their mother to come quickly soon filled the room. Iain happily ignored it as Alfred, Arthur, Irene, and his mother bolted into the other room before Iain could so much as look up. The eldest of the Kirkland clan, took the opportunity and light a cigarette. Placing the cancer-stick between his teeth he took a large puff before a scream erupted from the front room. Jumping, the smoke fell from between his lips and caught on his shirt. Iain cursed and smacked the small hole that formed on his shirt out before picking up the cigarette from the floor and tossing it into the sink. Only then did he make his way into the adjoining room.

"Hurry him to the bathroom while I get a medicine kit!" His mother ordered with authority laced thickly into her words,

"I'm fine mum, really!" William argued but was shushed as he attempted to walk into the other room himself. "It's just a small bite!" He protested staggering a bit and falling into Alfred who caught him without a second though.

"What the hell are you all so worked up about?" Iain asked pushing into the room. William was still slumped against Alfred in the middle of the group a small, crescent shaped wound torn through his shoulder. Crimson already dying the cobalt of his shirt. "Your girlfriend get too rough?" Iain snickered, though no one laughed with him as Alfred and Arthur hurried the smaller man into the bathroom down the hallway.

"Whoa!" Alfred yelped as William slumped over once again, "Dude, don't pass out, kay?" He pleaded as he assisted him through the door.

Irene and Iain were left alone in the front room while their mother went to fetch William a medicine kit.

"What the hell happened?" Iain asked nibbling on his bottom lip. Irene shot him a worried glance.

"He was bitten by some bum went he went to the store. Will said it wasn't too bad at first but got worse when he started to head here. Said it started to fester and bleed. Maybe the bum had rabies?" Irene wondered aloud. Iain coughed and nodded,

"Maybe. Poor little Willie didn't stand a chance." He shook his head sympathetically and winced as Irene slapped his arm. Hard. "What the hell was that for?" He snapped when she smacked him a second time.

"That's our brother! Show some compassion!" She let out a shaky breath, "Come on. Let's go make sure he's okay."

The two headed into the bathroom where William was sitting on the closed toilet seat sucking in wavering breaths. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused as they darted around the room from face to face.

"Move!" Ms. Kirkland snapped as she pushed her way past Iain, Irene, and the other two to get to William. "Now love take off your shirt so I can see it better." She whispered, William attempted to remove the blood tainted fabric from his body, but was unable to manage even that.

"Maybe we should call a doctor." Arthur urged when William began to cough haggardly. Ms. Kirkland ran a hand through William's strawberry blond hair, attempting to calm him, while Irene struggled to get his shirt off without rubbing against his decomposing wound.

"Good idea." Ms. Kirkland agreed once the shirt had been taken off, "I'll tend to him while you call." Arthur shouldered through the group and went to get the home phone. "Iain?" The redhead looked up from messing with his pocket knife.

"Yeah, mum?" He asked,

"I want you to go turn off all the stuff in the kitchen, alright? I don't know how long the wait will be and I don't want anything burning." Iain followed her directions, rolling his eyes as he went. "Alfred, love?" Alfred stepped a bit closer, his eyes wide with concern.

"What do yah need?" He inquired.

"I want you to go into the guest room, you know where it is, and prepare the bed for William. Make sure you have lots of blankets." Alfred maneuvered out of the room and headed for the guest room.

Arthur cursed as the phone slipped from his hand when he lifted it and fell to the floor. His hands were trembling too violently to hold onto the receiver.

It took him a few moments, but he finally managed to get the device to remain steady in his hands as he dialed the family's doctor, who lived only a few houses away. The telephone rang several times before the busy-signal began to ring in his ears. Swearing angrily he dialed again.

"Try 999." Iain called from the other room, hearing Arthur's obvious distress.

"Fine!" Arthur snapped back at him when he received the busy-signal once again. "That line is for patients only! Who would be calling him at..." He paused to look at his watch, "8 at night?" He demanded to himself while waiting for the other end to answer.

A few elongated moments later a voice answered the call.

"999 emergency, we are now receiving a number of calls that we are unable to respond to immediately, but please stay on the line and we will have you speak with one of our people as soon as possible." Arthur cursed, how many calls could there possibly be waiting?

He hung up the phone and a scream erupted from the back room. Arthur jumped and turned as Iain yelped in pain, splashing boiling water down the front of his shirt. Both brothers took off running as a second screech filled the air. Arthur was fast, but Iain was faster. He rounded the corner and skidded to a halt as he saw the bloodbath that lay before him.

Irene was horrified, obviously in shock as she staggered out of the bathroom. On her back she quickly scampered away in a modified crab-walk as a fresh new splash of warm, sticky blood surged across the floor. It grazed and stuck to her leg and she screamed again. Iain leapt forward and pulled her back. Wailing she curled into his chest trembling and sobbing madly.

"He bit her! He's eating her!" She cried. Eyes wide with shock, Iain passed his sister to a startled Arthur and rushed to the bathroom.

Iain stood in the doorway and stared horrified at the scene before him. William looked up at him with eyes that rolled back into his head and were covered in a milky glaze. Bags stretched down below his hazy eyes that showed no emotion above his blood soaked face. Blood dripped from a open gaping mouth that gnashed and snarled when he spotted Iain. Crouched over William rested on his hands and knees with one arm jutting out at an odd angle obviously snapped during the struggle that appeared to have taken place. Blood oozed from around the monster that was once his brother and brushed against Iain's boots.

Looking down Iain felt his heart stop as his mother's motionless form finally registered in his mind. She was broken, staring wide eyed up at the son she had moments before been lovingly taking care of. somehow she was still alive. Gasping she clung to life for a few brief moments, just long enough for Iain to look her in her terrified eyes. With a final scream she died and still William continued to mutilate her.

It was what happened next that would live forever in Iain's mind.

His mother began to shake to life.

Sure, she looked dead enough. Her jugular was torn open and he knew that the skin hanging from the teeth in William's mouth used to cover her neck. Blood that had once spurted from the torn artery still oozed without the beat of a heart to move it. She was in every essence of the word dead.

Still his mother began to sit up, her head twisted in unnatural angles as she tried to look behind her. Her eyes met Iain's in a single moment, and Iain felt a tear roll down his face. Reaching out she a low moan broke through her throat and almost mournfully began to crawl towards Iain.

It was William who broke his trance. With a screech of challenge the man shoved his mother aside and stumbled forward in order to leap towards Iain. Standing dumbstruck Iain was incapable of thinking about what to do. This man killed his mother, but this man was his brother. His little brother. The same little brother he taught to ride a bike, who laughed at his jokes when no one else did. This man was his little Willie.

Mortified, He attempted to shake himself out of the daze while William tripped and stumbled towards him. Iain knew that if he didn't move, he was going to die, but still...this was his little brother.

With an nearly unnoticeable grunt of protest Ms. Kirkland began to roll onto her stomach so she could also reel towards Iain and the others. Shaking his head in terror, Iain lurched backward as a bloody hand swatted at his chest. William had brought himself into a standing position now. His head hung on his neck as if it was unable to support it any longer. His mouth let out an exasperated moan. Iain stood still this time as he felt the outstretched, grubby hands snag onto his pure white dress shirt and slam him into the wall. William pulled himself closer and his jaws neared Iain's exposed throat.

"William...stop. It's me. It's Iain. Willy? You don't know what yer doing...please." Iain whispered desperately, holding onto his brother's head weakly, just barely enough to keep the gnashing jaws off of him.

He was going to die if he didn't move, but he couldn't hurt his own brother. Suddenly William was slammed off of him and onto the ground. Iain gasped and looked down to see Alfred holding William against the ground with a blade drawn. Iain went to help but only to be smacked against the wall by his mother. This time unaware of what was happening he punched in defense. His fist landed thickly against his mother's jaw but she didn't seem to notice regardless of a loud crack that filled the room. She hissed once before Iain grabbed onto her

"Don't let them bite you!" Irene screamed at the top of her lungs as Iain and Alfred wrestled with the two zombified corpses that used to be family. Iain let out a gruff nod as he pushed his mother's...no she wasn't his mother anymore. The corpse's face away from his. With this she staggered back. It wasn't a large stagger, no one but Iain probably noticed it. But she became off balance for about half a second and Iain struck.

He rammed into her chest with his elbow and she was sent back. He pushed himself on top of her and the two fell to the floor with a loud thud. She began to claw at his chest with her nails, leaving welts and several slices along his skin.

Iain lost it.

He rammed his elbow again and again into the skull of this corpse. Switching out between the two and occasionally using a fist. He was in a blind fury to kill what ever was in front of him. Had Arthur gotten in his way he might have even killed him too. Blood spurted from both Iain's now bleeding chest and the woman's nose, mouth and forehead. The nails no longer raked, they simply dragged down his chest, tearing open the shirt and popping buttons as Iain smashed in her face.

As if he had an epiphany he remembered the pocket knife. When digging his elbow into the now shattered front of the skull he fished it out of his pocket. Flicking it open in a swift motion he stabbed it solidly into the head. All flailing stopped. All movement stopped. The nails no longer dragged across the skin. Nothing. Iain panted and attempted to stand.

"Don't touch me!" He snarled when he felt Arthur's hands on his back. "I can do this on my own! Damn it!" He shouted when the hands brushed across him again, "I can do this on my own." He repeated. Looking up at his brother's clear, terrified bottle green eyes, he slipped into a reluctant unconsciousness.

**Alright Review please and I'll let you ride in Alfred's sports car. **


	2. Not a Dream

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Blood, Gore, Blood, Zombies, Um…blood.**

Iain stirred when he felt something dabbing at his chest. At first the gentle brushes seemed harmless, but gradually memories from before he blacked out filled his mind and panicked he sat up with a roar to defend himself.

Arthur yelped as his brother's skull rushed up to meet his, sending both crashing away from each other. Eyes flicking wildly around the room as Iain struggled identify where he was and establish what was going on. Standing with a wince Arthur scooped the bandages now strewn across the floor and peeled the antiseptic wipe off of the bed on which Iain was situated.

"What..." Iain croaked, reaching up to brush the crimson soaked bandages with a shuddering hand. "Ah..." He whispered knowingly, looking up he found Arthur was crying silently, attempting to wipe his face clean so Iain wouldn't see. "So...it wasn't just a dream then." He decided with a sigh.

"No...when you fainted Alfred helped me carry you upstairs. He and Irene are in the other room. I stayed in here with you, just in case...well...we didn't know if you were going to...well change." Arthur admitted, brushing his hair out of his face and sitting next to his brother with a sigh. Iain nodded grimly, studying his brother's drawn face with a scrutinizing eye. Nodding when he spotted no injuries he turned away, satisfied.

"What did you do with the bodies?" He demanded bluntly, his hands clutched around the familiar cobalt sheets he slept on as a child.

"We buried them, last night. Alfred, Irene, and I...we weren't sure how long you would be unconscious, and we couldn't just leave them there." He pointed out with an exhausted look in his eyes.

"Of course not." Iain snapped, throwing his legs over the side of the bed before Arthur had a chance to stop him.

"What on _earth _do you think you're doing?" Arthur snapped, lurching to his feet as his brother did. "You are in no condition to be walking around." Iain shrugged him off and looked down at his bare chest in disgust. Every inch was coated in bloody wrap; certain sections bright reds while others turning a dull brown. Shaking his head in irritation, Iain limped over to the closet with a grunt.

"I just need a shirt, and I'll be right as rain." He smirked; rifling through the clothes he left over at his mother's house in case he was ever in need of a quick change. Ignoring Arthur's protests he pulled a new white collared shirt and threw it over his aching shoulders with a grunt of effort. Looking over his shoulder with a smirk he turned back to his brother. "Tada...now you can't even see it." Arthur frowned in exasperation.

"That doesn't mean it's not there." Iain rolled his eyes.

"Well then yer shit out of luck aren't you?" He snapped, beginning to sift through the drawers in search of a pair of pants to replace the ones he wore.

"We have to get out of here!" Irene's livid voice broke out from downstairs just as Iain finished dressing. Shooting a look at Arthur, Iain raised an eyebrow.

"She's been like this all morning. I had to threaten to sedate her before she would go to sleep." Arthur admitted before the question was asked.

Downstairs, Alfred was attempting to calm Irene.

"Why?" Alfred's tired voice shouted back. "What's the point?"

"I'd say we go intervene before Irene beats up little Alfie." Iain pointed out, moving past his brother and out the door before he could so much as voice an opinion.

"We don't know how many there are!" Irene snarled as the two brothers entered the kitchen where Irene was pacing along the tiled floor. "William said he was bit by a man that means there could be more! There could be some roaming the hallways right now for all we knew! They could be all over the streets!" She panicked beginning to sob hysterically Alfred draped an arm over her shoulder as he attempted to calm her, it almost seemed like it was working when she blurted, "Everyone out there could be dead..." She finally whimpered quietly, "We have to leave."

"I can second that notion." Iain snapped as he leaned up against one of the walls across from where his sister stood.

"Iain..." Arthur cautioned the man from continuing and giving Irene false hope.

"Iain...you're awake." Irene gasped her eyes over filling with relieved tears as she rushed to her brother's side.

"I wasn't bleeding that bad. But, if we are leaving, I want a weapon." Iain stated, his voice becoming stronger despite the general weakness he still felt.

"Come now, sit back down! Don't be so rash, we have no idea what's actually happening out there." Arthur informed them grimly giving his older brother a stern glare. Iain finally silenced himself, but only when Arthur lifted a hand. Arthur turned back to Iain. "Besides, if we do leave then where will we go?" Arthur asked and glanced over at him. Iain shook his head in consideration.

"Somewhere." Iain muttered. "We'll look for other survivors." He decided as Arthur sat in the chair beside Alfred and sighed. Iain silently stroked his sister's shaking head as his brother considered the idea.

"Survivors?" Arthur demanded, "You're making this seem like some sort of apocalyptic…" He broke off as Alfred winced noticeably. "What?"

"You were upstairs with Iain…I…I turned on the news while Irene was sleeping." He admitted with tears in his eyes. "Only one station worked. The emergency broadcast station. All it said was to remain calm. That it would blow over soon, but Arthur…it was a recording. I wouldn't doubt if the whole world was like this now. The government has been so secretive lately, not letting us fly anywhere in Europe, or Asia, hell they wouldn't let me book a flight to New York last week. Something went wrong, somewhere this disease mutated and the Government decided to hide it from us." Alfred's explanation left his companions staring blankly. "We could stay here a few days longer I suppose. Hell, we might be able to hold out a few months even, but if my guess is right, then there are more of those…things…out there." Alfred spat, rubbing his temples.

"Maybe you're right, but we still shouldn't leave so soon! Iain's injured and after what we went through last night I'm not sure it would be a good decision to leave." He snapped, when Irene looked hopeful for a moment, her eyes still wide with relief that her brother was alive.

"What's left for us here?" Iain demanded crossly, "What? Tell me why we shouldn't just pack up and go!" Arthur stepped towards his brother furiously, his finger jabbing into his chest angrily.

"Shelter! Food! A space so we can plan whatever the hell it is that we are doing!" Iain snarled as smacked away the hand.

"Well ah don't want to stay in the same place where I killed our mother, damn it!" Iain roared, baring his teeth and taking a step towards his brother menacingly.

"I know! But we need time Iain! We need to plan. We need…ACK!" Arthur's protest was cut short as Iain lifted his brother off the ground by the collar glaring angrily into his eyes.

"You didn't kill them! You don't know what ah'm goin' through right now you little shit!" Iain screamed, shaking his brother roughly.

"Iain put him down! Please!" Irene sobbed, throwing herself forward and groping weakly at his clenched fists as Alfred moved to defend the Englishman. Tearing them apart with a roar, Alfred thrust Arthur behind him and lifted a pistol up to Iain's head.

Instantly silence filled the air.

"CALM DOWN!" Alfred roared, keeping the gun up against Iain's skull as Irene wailed despondently beside them. "Sit down and shut the hell up!" He hissed, removing the gun so that Iain could move, "Shut up about knowing how it feels to kill!" He whispered so that only Iain could hear, "You think that I feel any different? You think I don't want to shoot myself in the F-ing head for what I did? Well I do!" Swallowing heavily, Iain nodded, glaring the American in the eye furiously. "Your siblings need you damn it! So stop scaring the shit out of them when they're looking to you to take over. Do you understand me?"

Iain nodded slowly. Grunting in acceptance, Alfred dropped the man and allowed him to lean against the wall.

Spinning towards Arthur he scowled, "And you! Shut up and listen for two Goddamn seconds! We need to figure out what to do, I understand that, but we sure as hell won't do it sitting here. I don't think any of us can think very clearly right now...and this place isn't helping." He sighed, thrusting his gun into the holster on his hip, swallowing thickly.

"Holy shit...you've got a pair on yah don't you?" Iain gasped, eyeing Alfred for the first time as a potentially dangerous person. "So are we in agreement? Are we leaving?" Iain demanded shakily, running a hand through his ruby hair.

"We need to get out of here. That's first."Alfred agreed, still shuddering as he leaned heavily against Arthur.

"I've been saying that we should leave this entire time!" Irene squeaked taking deep breaths as she attempted to calm herself down. She turned slowly and began to lower herself into one of the chairs, clutching the edge.

"Very well. Though I'm pretty damn sure this is suicide." Arthur spat slumping into one of the chairs and beginning to draw his finger across the cracked wood aimlessly. Iain nodded affirmatively.

"Then we leave at noon. Grab what we need, and find a weapon. We have no idea what's out there."

~X~

"I thought I'd at least come and say goodbye." Iain's voice was calm, casual as he stood before his mother and brother's graves. "I didn't mean to mum…you know that. I don't think you would have wanted me to let you eat Iggy and the others anyway." He pointed out, leaning against a golf club he selected as a weapon from his father's old set. "We're headed towards the suburbs. From what Arthur heard on the radio, do you remember that old thing? The one pa got from the garage sale?" He chuckled sadly, wiping a tear from his eye in case Arthur or one of the others rounded around the house to retrieve him. He didn't need them to see him crying like a child. "Well he heard that there was a military base just outside of London, an American one that has managed to stay operating despite everything going to hell. We're going to try and make it that far at least."

The graves remained silent. Of course they did. He didn't know why he expected anything more.

"I'm sorry mum." Iain whispered, draping his mother's favorite necklace over the makeshift cross his brother had constructed. He flinched when a pale hand followed his, placing a hand bound bible, the same one William used to read constantly, onto the grave adjacent to his mother's.

"I found it in his car." Irene explained her face drawn and pale. Iain turned to look at her with a frown.

"Are you alright? You look sick." He pointed out gruffly. She looked startled at the question, and shirked away from his touch.

"I'm fine…I'm just scared. Scared and tired." She explained her voice hoarse. "The car's ready to go. We should go meet up with the others." He nodded. Realizing he should probably do something to comfort the ill looking girl, he awkwardly reaching out and put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's going to be ok. I'm still here, Arthur's still here. We'll take care of you little sister." He winked, tweaking her nose in an attempt to be playful. She smiled slightly, grabbing the hand he left next to her cheek, leaning into the palm and allowing him to lead her away from their family home.

"Are we ready to go?" Alfred called from his little Mustang, bouncing a steel baseball bat off his palm with a grin. "I found it in my trunk." He explained when Iain raised an eyebrow. "Iggy found some board…"

"It's a cricket bat you dense twat." Arthur glared from passenger's seat in Iain's truck. "Are you ready to go?" he asked Iain when Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Of course." Iain grinned, tossing the rest of his golf clubs into his trunk along with a duffle bag filled with clothes, medicines, and food. "Are you sure you don't want to ride along with us Jones?" he demanded swinging into the driver's seat.

"I'm not leaving my baby behind. Besides I'll be able to run circles around you if you're sticking to that old clunker." Alfred laughed when Iain flipped him off and pulled into the road leading away from the house. "Yeehaw! Let's hit the road. No laws and no speed limits! Let's see what my baby can do!" He cheered slamming on the gas and swerving around Iain so he could take the lead.

"Stupid Yank." Iain shook his head, pressing on the gas to catch up with the ecstatic American. Irene giggled quietly behind him, and for that moment at least, their problems were behind them.

~X~

Dusk was falling and Alfred had finally fallen into a set pace in front of them when Arthur caught Iain's attention by tugging on his sleeve. Barely taking time to look away from the road, Iain looked across at his brother and nodded.

"Irene doesn't look well." Iain frowned at his brother's comment, looking over his shoulder he felt his eyes widen.

Irene looked terrible. What he had taken for peaceful sleep now looked more like a fitful unconsciousness. Shuddering like a leaf her face was contorted into a grimace of pain. Swearing Iain turned back to the road and flicked his lights to alert Alfred that they were stopping.

"I can't figure out what's wrong if I'm driving." He spat when Arthur shot him a worried glance. Pulling of the road he swung out of the car and pulled open Irene's door. "Something's wrong with Irene." He explained when Alfred parked and trotted up to them with concern etched on his face.

"I thought maybe you broke down, now I'm sort of wishing you had." Alfred admitted shooting a look down at Irene's agony ridden face. "Is she sick? She didn't look to hot in the house, but I figured she was just scared." He admitted trying to get a better look at her over Iain's shoulder.

Ignoring him blatantly, Iain turned back to his sister. Pressing his wrist against her cheek he winced at the heat built up beneath her skin.

"Irene?" He snapped, patting her cheek with his hand sharply. "Irene wake up." He ordered near slapping her across the face.

"Stop that you'll hurt her!" Arthur protested angrily. Iain let a small groan leave his throat as he glared over his shoulder at his brother.

"I'd rather she get a bit mad at me for slapping her on the cheek then leave her unconscious. Now bug off Iggy." Iain snarled turning back to his sister with calculating eyes. "How long has she looked like this? She was _fine_ when I talked to her behind the house." Iain snarled, scooping his sister from the car he turned and moved away from the cars hurriedly. Finding a particularly dry patch of grass he laid her out gently before rolling up her sleeves to examine her arms and shoulders for anything odd.

"She was looking pale this morning." Arthur admitted, kneeling down beside her and stroking her ginger hair from her face. "She said she was fine…" He whispered, biting his thumb nervously. Iain felt realization hit like a brick to the skull. Kneeling back in the grass he turned towards his brother.

"She was bit, wasn't she?" Iain demanded harshly, when Arthur avoided his glance. "Tell me damn it!" he demanded when Arthur's eyes went wide. "Arthur I swear to God if you don't tell me, so help me…" He hissed, standing and turning on his brother with a fist raised.

"It was just a scratch." Arthur whispered not flinching when his brother glared down at him. "He…he barely nicked the skin. She was _fine._" Iain felt his heart lurch as he looked down at his sister in horror.

"Not you too…" He whispered looking up at the cloud-streaked sky in horror. _God…please_. _Not her too…not my sister._ When he received no word from above he turned back to his sister and began to frantically search her for wounds. "Where?" He spat, not bothering to turn away from his sister's paling form.

"Her ankle…I treated it myself. It's just a scratch Iain! She's fine! She's probably in shock!" Arthur yelled as Iain pulled off her shoes and socks. Just over the ankle a red soaked bandage stared angrily back at Iain. "It still hasn't stopped bleeding…" Arthur's shocked croak was barely audible when Iain peeled the bandage back and the purple gouge he mentioned before came into view.

"It's…It's a bite." Iain whispered, slumping back into the grass. "She's infected." He realized dully. "Why didn't you _tell _me?" he croaked flinching away from his brother's touch.

"She's fine! It's not a bite! It's a scratch like you have!" Arthur attempted, disbelief rampaging through his own voice.

"Is she going to change?" Alfred demanded, panicking as he paced beside them his hand resting over his holster. "Iain if she's going to change we have to put her down." He croaked, his hand twitching over the firearm. Iain nodded numbly, receiving a shocked gasp from Arthur.

"She's our sister!" The Englishman howled turning and boxing Alfred on the ear. "I will not kill my own sister."

"You won't have to do it Arthur." Alfred whispered, nursing his now enflamed ear with a wince. "I'll do it."

"No…" Iain growled, looking up at Alfred with cold, dead eyes. "I will. She's my sister."

"She still hasn't changed! She's still alive! She isn't infected! If she is we could tie her up! Take her with us…there has to be a cure somewhere!" Arthur wailed, placing himself in front of his sister defensively. "We can't lose everyone Iain!"

"That's right…I won't lose everyone." Iain whispered reaching for the gun Alfred extended. "You're still alive."

"She is too." Arthur protested weakly, flinching as his sister hacked harshly and vomited violently behind him. "She's still your sister Iain." He begged as a low moan filled the air, and the sound of shuffling feet following shortly after. Eyes filled with agony, Iain stepped forward slowly. Wrapping his arm around Arthur he whispered:

"Not anymore."

Arthur barely flinched as the shot went off right by his ear. Wailing despondently he only remained standing because his brother held him up. The sound of a body dropping to the ground was drowned out by his sobs. Beating his fist against Iain's chest he began to scream out accusations.

"NO! She's your sister! She's your sister! Bastard! Heartless son of a bitch!" He roared, not caring if he struck his brother's wounds or not. "Damn you! Damn you!"

"I know." Iain winced, restraining his brother's arms by pulling him closer. "I'm sorry." He snarled, rocking back and forward and shooting a look at Alfred that told him to do something about the body now lying broken in the grass.

Alfred nodded grimly and went back to the car to look for a blanket. Finding one in the trunk he shakily began to bring it back to where the brother's were standing.

He was just about to round the truck when he saw it. At first looking like a solid line of cattle, or some other slow moving traffic, but looking closer he felt his blood chill.

"Uh…Uh…I'm beginning to think the gun might not have been such a great idea." Alfred rasped grabbing onto Iain and wheeling him around to face the mob sprinting towards them. "Get into the cars….GET INTO THE CARS." Alfred roared looking over his shoulder and spotting a second group dragging their way towards them from behind.

"What about Irene!" Arthur sobbed, lurching towards her body only to be snagged around the waist by his brother. "We can't leave her! We can't just leave her like this!" He wailed, clawing at his brother's arm.

"God damn it Arthur!" Iain snarled, wheeling him around and slapping him across the face. "She's dead ok? She's gone! They can't hurt her anymore! But they can hurt us. _Now get your ass in the truck." _His face was strained with grief as he shoved his brother into the truck before wheeling around and slamming one of the first infected to reach them in the skull with his golf club.

"You can't just leave her." Arthur whispered brokenly. Iain felt his blood chill at the sentence. Arthur was right. As if some outside force possessed him, Iain wheeled around on his heel and began to move towards his sister. A second infected reached him as he went to kneel down. Roaring in fury he blasted the beasts head open with a shot from Alfred's pistol. As it fell the creature tripped a third attacker who Iain ended just as quickly. Turning as he knelt, Iain scooped Irene into his arms before he raced back to the car. Creating a distraction Alfred slammed over zombies with his Mustang.

Placing Irene into the bed of the truck as gently as he could, Iain leapt into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut on a mutilated hand before slamming on the gas and blasting over a zombie who was unlucky enough to get in his way.

"I couldn't leave her." Iain explained when his brother squeezed his shoulder, staring into the distance brokenly. "Not like that."

**Iain get's a pack of cigarettes for every review. He'll be grumpy if he get's none.**


	3. Close Call

**You should know the warning by now right? Blood and gore, some swearing**

"Do you think she'd like it?" Arthur demanded as he knelt down beside his sister's newly formed grave, nothing more than a pile of rocks, but it would protect her body if nothing else. Iain looked up at the towering oak they selected, covered in ivy and surrounded by wild flowers of blue and purple shades and nodded.

"Aye. Now let's go. We just barely gave those infected the slip. We need to keep moving." He ordered kneeling and placing a few clovers beneath the third makeshift cross he buried his family under in the past day and a half. Arthur agreed despondently, allowing his brother to shepherd him back to the truck where Alfred stood guard with his baseball bat poised and ready to use. They had learned that guns were a dangerous weapon to use against the undead swiftly.

The next portion of the drive rolled by silently. Iain's breathing was shallow and choppy as he drove through the roads where only an hour ago the infected were still in hot pursuit of their small party.

Mindlessly Arthur clung onto Iain's arm with a shuddering hand, not daring to look back towards where the ravenous horde of dead bodies might still appear behind them.

Irritated by the silence, Iain breathed out heavily through his nose, startling his brother with the sudden noise. Shaking his head to let his brother know it was nothing Iain turned back to his musings.

Sucking in a deep breath, Arthur turned and continued to stare openly out the window towards where Alfred tore up the muddied road ahead of them.

_Alfred must be in a similar mental state to my brother and I, _He frowned sadly_, a simple dinner at a friend's house quickly turned into a battle for life or death. He probably wants to be home with his family right now...even if they're in a similar mess as this. _Arthur frowned miserably at the thought. _It's better than trusting my brother's sometimes iffy judgment. _

As if he heard, Iain's eyes flicked towards him for a millisecond.

"What?" He asked harshly then he probably intended to when he noticed his brother's desolate stare.

"Alfred." Arthur sighed, wincing at the tone in his brother's voice. "He's probably worried about his family." Iain nodded, he wouldn't doubt it.

"He looks fine." He said looking in through the back window of Alfred speeding sport car to stare at what appeared to be the American singing top of his lungs. Looking closer he could see the tears streaming down his face. "What's he doing?" Iain demanded, leaning forward to get a better view of the American.

"Maybe he's trying to call his family." Arthur suggested, he wasn't singing, he was yelling. Yelling into an open cell-phone furiously.

"Poor kid. He's a long way from home ain't he…New York right?" Iain asked, receiving a slow nod. Iain bobbed his head in return, though he already knew the answer, it was a good feeling to hear Arthur speaking and interacting again. "His family is there?" Arthur nodded again, "Maybe there hasn't been any attacks in America." Iain offered hopefully, knowing deep down that even if that was the case, that wouldn't last long.

"Perhaps…but I'm learning quickly not to hope for something that incredible." Iain nodded sympathetically as his brother leaned back against his seat and closed his eyes. He was soon dozing, or at least was pretending well enough to fool Iain. Sighing, Iain turned his attention back to the road. Now thoroughly without company, Iain found himself watching the surroundings with eyes determined to find the enemy before they found him.

Up ahead of them Alfred was fiddling aimlessly with his radio, apparently having given up on his cell phone. Iain frowned at the movements, having checked the radio that morning himself and found nothing but static and a repeated message from the government telling the general populace not to panic and giving a general list of tips to keep them healthy.

_God I hope no one listened to that nonsense. _He thought thinking back to the calm female voice that told citizens to wash their hands and to gather into large groups to deter the infected_…or there might not be any people left in the suburbs for us to join up with._

Without warning Alfred slammed on his breaks.

Crying out Iain thrust his arm out to stop the shallowly dreaming Arthur from slamming forward as he slammed on his breaks and veered to avoid colliding with the Mustang. Swearing loudly and shaking like a leaf Iain threw open his door with a bang and marched up to Alfred's car as a startled Arthur groggily untangled himself from his seat belt.

"Ah don't know who taught ye to drive ye crazy son of a bitch, but ye give a person a wee bit of a warning before you slam on your God damn breaks! You had better have a pretty damn good reason for trying to kill us because we've nearly died a few more times than I'd like today, ye dead brained cunt!" Iain spat, his anger flaring as he threw Alfred's door open.

"Shh." Alfred ordered, turning up the radio he was obviously fascinated with. Livid Iain let a breath of air out from between his teeth.

"Don't you dare tell me to 'shh' ye stupid American bastard! If it weren't for the situation we were in I'd kick your ass right…What are you listening to?" Iain blinked as Alfred rolled his eyes and turned up the radio again.

"…not enter London. I repeat, do not enter London or any of the surrounding areas. Reports have been made of hordes of the infected having taken over the capital city and are gradually spreading into the suburbs were the military is currently attempting to put a hold on their advancement." Iain blinked, startled as a shuddering English male voice reported from the radio on Alfred's dash. "We are now broadcasting on every station with the same message. Currently we are evacuating survivors out of small villages at selected military bases. I repeat, evacuate from the suburbs. Do not take infected persons with you. Do not hesitate to kill if you are attacked by infected persons. Do not attempt to find loved ones who may be in London or the surrounding area. Escape by any means necessary. London has fallen. I repeat. London has fallen." Iain felt his brother slump beside him. Turning he found the man staring blankly down at his hands, his eyes wide and staring.

"Turn that shit off." Iain spat, turning on his heel and stalking back to his car. Furiously he slammed his fist against the already dented front of his car. Ignoring the pain that followed he growled and began to pace.

"What are we going to do?" Alfred demanded, hefting Arthur to a standing position and patting him on the shoulder.

"Same thing we were doing ten minutes ago. We head for the military. Just because the military has moved bases doesn't mean we sit down and give up. We adapt and change directions like anyone with half a brain would." Iain snarled in response, swinging into the driver's seat. "I'm taking point. Arthur, stay with Alfred for a bit. He needs the company." He ordered when Arthur began to slump his way back to the truck knowing that his brother was a wreck at the moment and he could do nothing to comfort him. "I'll turn the station on in my truck and you follow me. So get in your car" He barked when Alfred looked quizzically back at him. "We're making it to that base." He decided with a growl, pulling the door shut behind him as Alfred's car roared to life.

~X~

"Military forces in Tokyo, Japan have reported an estimated one million people have been infected, another 4 million are unaccounted for. The American base in Okinawa is the only remaining organized government evacuation site remaining functional."

"The Australian Government, in an attempt to keep the infection from spreading even further on to their soil, have sealed off their borders and controlled waters. They are declaring that any vessel or plane that enters the now restricted air zone will be shot down immediately and without warning."

"Reports from Germany state that Berlin has managed keep the infected out of the city for the time being as all German military forces focus their efforts on keeping the capital functional long enough to evacuate surviving civilians."

"Russia reporting that after a horde estimating to be in the near thousands rampaged through St. Petersburg, only scattered military groups remain and that civilians are urged to avoid the area if at all possible."

"All signals we were previously receiving from Italy, Hungary, France, Sweden, Serbia, Ukraine, Spain, and Austria have recently gone silent."

"Switzerland has officially declared a state of emergency and is requesting aid available from any UN forces."

"All American troops have been pulled back from Asia, Africa, and most of Southern Europe in order to focus on efforts to control the spread of the outbreak on their own soil and the less severe cases in Northern European countries."

Iain switched the radio off in disgust. He knew he should have kept the damned thing off once he received word of the location of standing Military evacuation sites, but for some reason he had been hopeful that some other country had managed to somehow stay unaffected. It had been a slim hope, and of course it had fallen through.

Still, America was holding out as best as they could. If they could somehow get evacuated to the Americas he was sure they would at least stand a chance.

Outside, night fell slowly. In the dark it was near impossible to spot the infected before they near jumped out at them. They couldn't stop and rest though; only by driving through the night could they manage to make up the lost time from their misadventure down the wrong road.

Squinting, he could see the black outline of the military base they had been promised. It was a large enough structure that over the level fields he had been able to see it for hours, and though he still dreaded what might be waiting for him in the facility he was hopeful for one bit of good news that day.

The only problem was that as he drew ever closer, more infected began to make themselves known.

Several of them made nuisances of themselves by leaping up to his truck and falling under his tires before he could move out of the way. The blasted things made his tires so slick with blood he was forced to drive slower than he hoped. Of course the problem only got worse as they drew even closer. The creatures multiplying and growing in numbers until Iain was sure the entire city of London was standing in the streets.

To make matters worse Alfred seemed to be having troubles keeping traction on the usually smooth roads. Knowing full well that the Mustang had no four-wheel drive Iain had always questioned how good of an idea it was to keep the stupid little thing around. Now his thoughts seemed to slowly become reality.

Alfred's car slipped and skidded around the crushed bodies left behind, barely managing to avoid the infected as they lurched for his car. More and more of the things seemed to target the smaller car until Alfred could do nothing more than crawl through the infected beasts.

Sighing in frustration, Iain flash his lights to show he was going to help. Pulling his car into a U-turn he slammed on his gas. Aiming at the zombies around Alfred's front Iain's truck heaved forward with a roar.

Using his truck's superior size he began to blast the corpses out of the way, praying all the while that his deer guard held up. Revving his engine he lurched, crushing bodies while clearing the road enough for Alfred to weasel forward and clear of the mob. Saluting Alfred as the blonde passed with a wave of thanks Iain threw his car into reverse, killing a few more of the things as he maneuvered his way after the smaller car.

Of course his work was not over. He had to repeat the action several more times, each time barely managing to make a path large enough for the smaller car to lurch forward. It was so monotonous and mind numbing that when they finally reached the gates of the prison turned base, he barely noticed until he saw the gun pointed at his face.

Three men, each armed to the teeth, were standing on the wall above them. With military grade weapons and armor that shielded their stern faces, the men were pictures of power and likelihood to kill if necessary.

One of the men came forward and lifted a megaphone up to his masked lips.

"Are you infected?" He demanded with a roar. "Are any of you infected?" Glaring Iain shook his head, not wanting to roll down the window and let the monsters outside get to him just to answer. "We'll check that ourselves. We're going to open the gates just large enough for one car at a time to slide through, once in. You are to wait until any infected persons are removed from the containment area before stepping from your vehicles to be checked for bites or other signs of infection." Irritated, but knowing it was for the best, Iain nodded.

Slowly the gate began to swing open, wheeling his truck around as the infected lurched forward Iain formed a barrier between Alfred's car and the infected. Desperately the infected began pummeling his truck with bleeding and broken fists. Iain waved Alfred on urgently; swinging into reverse to kill a few infected who thought it would be a great idea to attack from behind.

Alfred made it through just as the infected began literally slamming into Iain's truck. The blood chilled his veins as his truck teetered for a minute, lifted off the driver's side wheels as the infected slammed and shoved his car in an attempt to dislodge the barrier between them and their prey.

Slamming his foot on the gas, the cab slammed downwards again. He was momentarily relieved until he realized the bitter truth of his situation. Instead of moving, his wheel caught on the bodies now piled beneath him.

Glaring lividly as his truck began to sway and threatened to overturn, he began to think of any options he might have.

The decision was not one he would make in any other situation.

Reaching forward he grabbed onto his golf club and began to crawl towards the opposite side of the car cautious of the threat of the truck flipping over with the addition of his weight.

Without thinking a second time, Iain placed his hand on the door infected were already attempting to crawl past the bodies beneath his car as well as over the top, but he had a split second head start.

Kicking open the door as he flew forwards he leapt as far as he could and tumbled to the ground. Rolling he landed on his feet and began to sprint into the open gate. Once inside he kept running as the infected who made it past his car barrier began to limp towards him faster than he would have thought possible for reanimated corpses.

"OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!" He bellowed at Alfred who sat watching him with wide eyes from the driver's seat of his car.

Shocked back into reality, Alfred threw open his door as Iain tore across the seemingly endless distance to avoid being eaten alive. He reached them just as one of the infected flung itself after Iain, aimed for his ankles. Tripping with a grunt, Iain kicked out, tearing free from the zombies grasp and lurching into the relative safety of the car Iain felt the air shove free from his lungs as he landed on the center console with a cry.

Rolling over as Alfred slammed the door shut he looked up at his startled brother from his position sprawled over both blondes' laps and as he slowly regained the use of his lungs, began to laugh. He began to laugh louder and even more hysterically as slowly his air returned, much to his brother's bewilderment.

"What in God's name is so funny?" Arthur squeaked, his hands white knuckled around his brother's shoulders.

"Ah…Ah lost my shoe." Iain laughed, tears streaming down his face as he slumped in the position he landed. "My shoe was untied…and…and the damn zombie took my shoe." He cackled hysterically holding a hand over his eyes as tears leaked from his emerald eyes.

It took a moment for them to notice, but looking down at Iain's foot they noticed that, indeed, the zombie had removed Iain's shoe without so much as scratching Iain's foot. It wasn't long before Arthur's face cracked a grin and Alfred began to laugh as heartily as Iain. Not bothering to sit up as the men from the fort began slaughtering the infected inside the containment zone, Iain allowed himself to relax. To laugh in relief, laugh in shock, and to laugh off the horror of realizing he had been one tied shoelace away from dying.

Just over his shoulder the sun crawled into existence, peeking over the walls of the prison nervously to smile down at the victorious trio.


	4. Safe For Awhile

**Warnings: Some swearing. **

They were welcomed into the base shortly after the holding area was cleared of the infected. A few quick pats on the shoulder and a new pair of boots from an obviously amused soldier was the congratulations Iain received for using himself as a human shield to protect the others in his group. Apparently seeing such an act was uncommon in the new world they had been shoved in. Just two hours earlier, they explained, a woman had tripped her own mother in order to save herself from a horde. They seemed eager to share more stories, but Iain waved them off in irritation once he noted the growlingly despondent look on Arthur's face.

Realizing that their prater might be upsetting the newcomers, a new man sent the others packing while shoving a beer into each of the trios' hands to 'calm their nerves.'

Iain's new best friend introduced himself as Captain Mathias Kohler, pilot first class for the American Air Force. He was quick to lead them to a camp doctor while calmly explaining the layout of the camp as well as where they could get some sleep after the doctor saw to them.

"No one stays much longer than a few hours, but we're still waiting for a flight to come back from the states. We'll get you on your way after that." He grinned, while Iain shrugged his shirt off so the doctor could poke and prod his skin.

"Are you going to be flying the plane out of here?" Alfred demanded from one of the chairs while a nurse flashed a light through his eyes.

"No. They need me in case we have to do some carpet bombing to cover a retreat." Mathias explained, smiling sadly and leaning against one of the crates containing food and other supplies.

"So I take it they don't plan on trying to hold out here, are….OW! You know it hurts when you stab someone with a needle you prick!" Iain growled flinching when the doctor removed the needle he had just jabbed into Iain's forearm from his flesh.

"No. Unfortunately this area has already been considered a dead zone. It's a losing battle the English are fighting now. We're going to try and regroup in the states once we've gotten as many people out as we can." Mathius' explanation didn't help Arthur's already somber mood as the Englishman sat silently next to his brother his examination already finished.

"What state are we headed to?" Alfred demanded excitedly, accepting a new plain white t-shirt from a nurse and pulling it over his head.

"Where are you headed?" Mathius pondered, pulling a crinkled sheet of paper from his cargo pants. "Well…if this is still updated…you're headed to a Military Base that the US has been set up in the dead center of Montana." Mathius explained, shoving the paper back into his pocket assuredly. "You're from America, aren't you kid? What part?" Alfred perked up at the idea of speaking about his hometown almost instantly.

"I was born in Houston, Texas, but I was raised in New York, New York." He grinned, his well-distinguished cowlick bobbing as he began to babble on about how much he missed it, and how amazing it would be to be back in the states.

"New York huh? I've flown over there a few times. I used to really like it, but right now you couldn't pay me a million dollars to go within a hundred square miles of that hole." Mathius put in with a laugh. When Alfred looked devastated he blinked. "You didn't know? Oh I am so sorry…I thought you would have heard…New York was the American infection ground zero." Alfred's face fell noticeably, his hand rising up to his forehead with a groan. "I'm sorry Alfred…The New York you know is dead. The biters control it now. I know you don't want to hear this, but I'd rather tell you now before you go charging head first into someplace that will not only get you killed, but get everyone you're traveling with killed." Alfred nodded glumly:

"I understand."

~X~

The plane landed at approximately 3:45 that afternoon. Iain was dozing up against one of the food barrels just outside the tent he and his group had been granted, one hand clutching his golf club the other draped lazily over his chest, when Mathius woke him.

"The cot's not uncomfortable enough for you?" He smirked pulling Iain to his feet.

"The tent was stuffy." Iain grunted, cracking his back with a pop as he blinked to help his eyes adjust to the light of the midday sun.

"Well I hope the plane is less stuffy." Mathius chuckled, offering Iain a sandwich while walking into the tent to wake the remaining members of his group.

Much to Iain's amusement, Alfred had fallen asleep while taking off his shoes, only managing to remove one before he dozed off leaning against his cot. Arthur fared a bit better, having slept a bit during the drive. He was actually under the blankets, his hand clutched around his cricket bat in a death grip.

"I'd hate to wake 'em." Iain drawled sarcastically, brushing past Mathius and strutting over to his brother, yanking the blanket out from under him. "Time to get up Iggy!" He called.

"Five more minutes Iain…I don't want to go to school." Arthur groaned groping for his blankets.

"Sorry Iggy, but we gotta catch a plane." Iain sighed, ruffling his brother's hair. Arthur's eyes flickered open in confusion, and slowly realization dawned on his face.

"Ah…" He whispered sitting up slowly.

"WAAAH!" Iain smirked as Mathius yelped, barely dodging Alfred's fist as he attempted shaking the American awake.

"Oh God, I'm sorry Mathius!" Alfred cried as he swung his feet over the side of the bed. "I thought…well you know."

"No no…it's ok. I should have tried something else to wake you up." Mathius relented, "But we do have to go. We've got a bunch of other survivors who are pretty twitchy about getting this plane in the air." He explained, leading Alfred from the tent.

The plane he led them too was a C-130. Other passengers were already filing onto the massive plane as they approached. Engines roared above their heads as Mathius directed them up the walkway quickly. Inside was a mismatched collection of men and women: some in casual wear; others wearing what Iain assumed were borrowed military uniforms.

Mathius situated Iain next to a silver haired, red-eyed man wearing the uniform of the German police. Iain nodded at the man as he sat, receiving a tired smile in return.

"Buckle yourselves in, this isn't a passenger plane!" Mathius ordered, leaning forward and pulling the seat belts around Iain before the red head could protest. "It's going to be a long flight, and it's not nearly as comfortable as the planes you're used to, but this is the safest way to get you all to the states. Listen to everything the pilot says." He ordered as he pulled Alfred's straps tighter around his chest. "Good luck you guys. Stay together alright?" He saluted.

"Same to you, Mathius, you take care of yourself." Iain ordered, clasping the other man's hand when it was extended towards him. Mathius nodded and was gone.

"I'm gonna miss my car." Alfred muttered dismally as the pilot explained that they would be taking off in just a few moments.

"If we survive this infection, I'll buy you a new car just like it." Iain called over the roar of the engine. Alfred smiled at the idea, and turned to face the window so he could look down at England one more time.

"Do you think we'll ever be back?" Arthur's question arose just as they lifted off the ground. Iain thought a moment before he answered.

"Take a good look while you can, brother." Iain suggested, leaning across Alfred so he could squeeze his brother's knee. "Remember, this isn't over yet."

Arthur nodded reluctantly, and went to follow his brother's advice without another word.

"So you are from here, ja?" Iain turned as the heavy German accent of the police officer seated beside him piped up suddenly over the roar of the plane. Turning he found the man was smiling at him boldly.

"Aye. Well, my brother and I are. Alfred here is from the USA..." Iain explained, a bit confused as to why the Albino chose him out of everyone to speak with. He always tried to look like the least sociable person in a room.

"Then maybe you could tell us where we are." The man prodded his eyes hopeful. "They said they were taking us to America, but they keep stopping and won't tell us where we are when we stop. None of the other passengers will tell us."

"Us?" Alfred questioned leaning over to get a look at the man.

"Ah…Me and mein bruder." The man grinned nudging a taller blonde man speaking calmly to a softly crying brunette boy around the same age. "My name is Gilbert, this is Ludwig, mein kleiner bruder." he explained. Turning, Ludwig nodded, extending a pale hand to clasp Iain's before turning back to the silently sobbing brunette hurriedly. "The smaller one is Feli, or Feliciano. Ludwig found him in one of the towns we were raiding. He's a spunky little thing, nearly blasted my head off when first stumbled over him." Gilbert explained looking sadly back at the boy he sighed and turned back to Iain. "Lost his whole family: Mother, father, brother, even his Grandparents." He whispered. "But then again...we've all lost people haven't we?"

"Aye...that we have." Iain agreed shooting a look at Arthur who, seeing as he was no longer able to see the ground, was using Alfred as a pillow as both blonde's dozed fatigued beyond the point of caring. "I'm Iain by the way." He muttered, knowing it was polite to introduce himself when the albino was clearly just trying to make a few new friends. "The little squirt is my little brother, Arthur. Like I said before...the taller kid is Alfred." Gilbert beamed at the introduction as if Iain had just said he was a long lost brother. "And we're in England...or at least we were. This was our final stop."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Iain." Gilbert nodded, shifting so that he could face forward again. "And Danke...I was beginning to fear the worst when no one would tell me where I was."

~X~

Iain found it extremely difficult to sleep with all the bumping and occasional chatter that plagued the plane. Luckily neither could Gilbert, and despite his prior reluctance to speak with the man, Iain soon found that having someone in a similar situation as him was an almost relieving sensation. Quietly both older brother's chatted throughout the night.

Iain learned that Gilbert was a police officer in Berlin, and had stayed only until he learned how deadly the disease truly was. He explained that even though it was his duty to protect the general public, his main priority was getting his brother to safety. By the time he actually arrived at the military base, they no longer cared if he had abandoned his badge seeing as if he had stayed, he would have been one more of _Die Infizierten, _what the German government called the infected.

Iain didn't blame Gilbert, he hoped he would have done the same in his place.

"I guess I plan on finding a place in America once this blows over. It will just be Ludwig and me…I suppose Feli would like to come too." Gilbert explained, obviously exhausted. "What are you going to do? You get the chance to start over now you know." He asked Iain with a grin. Iain paused a moment to think, but was not given chance to speak as another man laughed from across the plane.

"Hah. You think this will blow over?" He demanded his accent heavy and French. "I have reason to doubt that civilization itself will ever fully recover. You had better get used to fighting for your lives, because they will be all you have left once this _maladie_ has taken everything else."

"Francis..._s'il vous plaît_...don't start this again." Another boy, so quiet that Iain hadn't even noticed him, squeaked from beside the fuming Frenchman. "He doesn't mean it...he's just been stressed since we managed to escape out of Paris." He squeaked snagging onto the older man and glaring at him.

"What's so wrong with it Mathieu? It's true! Someone has to tell them before they realize it the hard way." Francis spat, crossing his arms and turning away.

"Calm down man. The government will get this under control. America has never fallen to anything before. We won't fall to some disease." Iain turned towards Alfred as he started to speak, he hadn't even noticed he was awake.

"Oh really? Hah...you _Américains_ are always so sure of yourselves. I'm sure you won't be so sure when one of those _monstres _snags the one you care for the most and kills them before you have a chance to fight back." He growled, his cerulean eyes brimming with tears.

"Francis...don't." Matthew whispered quietly, obviously too tired to control him anymore.

"You don't think we haven't lost people? I've buried my entire family this week you git!" Arthur roared, his eyes red and his face gaunt. "I don't know what you've been through this week, but I can tell you that there's not much more I can handle right now. So shut up before I shut you up personally."

"Calm down all of you!" A brunette woman shouted from Francis' side of the plane. "Honestly... we can't be fighting amongst ourselves when our enemy is out there!" She growled, her jade green eyes sparking angrily. "Francis, if you can't shut up, I don't think I would be able to stop these men from killing you." She cautioned, not taking her eyes off the Frenchman. "Besides, you're upsetting Matthew." She whispered. Automatically the Frenchman looked appalled and turned to the quiet boy speaking rapid fire French Iain had no way of understanding.

"Well said Elizabeta!" A flamboyant looking blonde boy cheered. "Frenchy, you had better stop picking fights with the biggest dudes on the plane. That red head looks like he's about to kill you. See Toris? He totally looks like he's about to drop kick Franny's can out the window!" It was true, Iain's eyes were narrowed into slits, focused in on the man upsetting his already distraught brother.

"Don't bother with him." The girl, Elizabeta, sighed without looking at Iain. "I've been traveling with him for awhile now. Francis just lost his wife. Jeanne was...really special to him." She explained, sending him an apologetic look.

"Just keep him quiet. Cause if he gets one of my boys riled up like that again. I'll kill him up personally." Iain growled, leaning back in his chair, one hand clenched around Alfred's shoulder to keep the American from doing anything stupid.

"This flight just keeps getting more interesting." Gilbert sniffed, clapping Iain on the shoulder. "Don't let him get to you. Honestly if I got upset every time an asshole talked like that to me I'd have died of a hernia by now." He laughed a strange, _kesesese_ sound that made Iain crack a grin. He was really starting to like Gilbert and his odd laugh.

**Read and Review! It will make me very very happy!**


	5. The Group Expands

The flight from the UK to Montana took approximately sixteen hours. Alfred was dozing off against Arthur's shoulder, drooling lightly onto his torn sweater vest, when the pilot announced they would be landing in approximately twenty minutes.

Peering outside, Arthur was vaguely aware of the sun peeking out over the mountains when they flew over their destination. He felt as if he should be excited to see the camp, or some he ought to be relieved, but instead he felt numb. Other people chattered nosily around him, were emotional, but he felt as though he was unable to share their joy and worries.

As if to bring the British Man out of his unwavering trance, the plane landed with a rumble of engines and the squeak of tires on a tarmac. Within ten minutes the enormous metal door pried opened with a loud creak, the thudding of the door against the cement rattling the travel worn occupants of the flight. Emerald eyes trailing along the bottom of the plane, Arthur scanned over the group of men that surrounded the open door.

A group of five men stood on the snow covered ground, each holding a gun fitted with silencers. One of the armed men, the one clutching a clipboard under his upper arm, was the one to speak.

"Welcome to the US Army Base, Mercy." He barked as he made his way through the plane, one hand on his gun as he scanned each worn face in turn. "Please stand up and you will be guided to the medic's barracks." His voice boomed, filling the now silent plane, dragging people from their sleep deprived daze. Iain lifted a hand over his eyes, to block out the glaring sun radiating off the snow outside the plane.

"We already got checked!" He snapped hotly, his arms still stinging from the last 'check' the military base forced him to undergo.

"Not by us." The man growled, "Unless you'd rather attempt to survive on your own out there, you had better get checked, Scotty-boy." Iain scowled menacingly: he'd put men in the hospital for less back home. Sensing his brother's rage, Arthur's hand flew out to restrain his brother.

"We'll get checked. Don't mind my brother; he's just tired from the flight is all." Arthur explained quickly, his fingers digging into his hot headed brother's arm. Iain snorted, but didn't say anything to further aggravate the situation when Arthur elbowed him in the side.

Smirking in victory the soldier turned back to the group and began to explain the procedures for entering the camp.

"I can't believe you…can't you just stay quiet for five minutes?" Arthur hissed to his brother once the soldier was preoccupied.

"Oh that son of a bitch was just looking for a fight. I just happened to be the one on the plane ready to give it to him." Iain laughed heartily.

"Honestly do you _have_ to piss off the guy with the gun?"

"Depends…do I actually think he'd use it against me?"

"Iain it was a rhetorical question!"

Ignoring his companions, Alfred rolled his eyes and walked awestruck into the camp. His bright blue eyes flitted from place to place. Tents stood all around him with families cramped inside them. Silently he prayed that he would see _his _family hiding in one of the tents. He prayed they would see him, jump out and greet him with bright smiles and hugs. That they would tell him it was alright and that everyone was fine. Of course he knew this was highly unlikely, when the disease, or whatever it was, had struck New York, half of the people there could have been wiped out within days.

They were led into a long metal barrack, with several pairs of steel double doors that held the sign "Medical Barracks" in hand painted white letters centered above the entry-ways.

Two guards positioned at the front held the doors open for the herd of people to enter. Iain, Arthur, and Alfred, relieved to be inside and out of the cold were instead struck head on with the harsh unforgiving smell of illness and death. In beds lining the walls, men and woman with terrible unhealed wounds screamed and thrashed against leather bindings holding them to blood soaked beds.

Horrified and appaleed, Arthur found himself frozen, but allowed Iain to tow him forward along with the group.

They continued to walk, their heads ducked and gazes averted, in an awkward silence. The entire group crashed into each other when the guards stopped suddenly in front of a small man with ebony black hair who was checking on a small girl with a bandage around her forehead.

Noticing the group, he smiled at the girl once and sent her on her way before turning to the new group.

"Hello." He said. Alfred barely managed to suppress a chuckle at his accent, "My name is Dr. Honda. I am in charge of the medical wing here. I know you all had to be checked before you came here, but we want to avoid any accidents if possible, so we are checking everyone once again."

"Has anyone come out positive for infection yet?" A female voice called out from the crowd. Iain quickly recognized the voice as Elizabeta. Not bothering to answer the question Doctor Honda simply smiled and motioned for the first person to step forward. Shoving his way to the front of the group Gilbert grinned at Iain before he disappeared behind the white sheet.

Iain's gaze drifted around the room. Rows of beds lined the walls and at least twenty of which were filled by patients. He began to scan over the patients, disgusted to find that several no longer had all of their limbs.

Iain looked upon one man, a very large individual with a full head of blood clotted dreadlocks, to find that both of his arms were missing. Suddenly and to Iain's horror, the man's eyes cracked open, he scanned around the room hazily for no more than a few seconds before rolling back into his bed and allowing himself to once again slip into a restless unconsciousness.

Iain looked away, not wanting to see the pain and misery on the patient's faces.

"Hey Iggy." Iain started and looked over at pale younger man. Arthur glanced up at him "You look like shit." Iain cackled trying to lighten the mood,

"As if I don't know that already." Arthur grumbled attempting to fix his matted hair. Alfred chuckled and went to assist the Englishman with his unruly locks. Arthur squeaked in protest but allowed Alfred to attempt it.

"Like, what are you three going to do when this is all over?" The short, blond, and very flamboyant boy from the plane suddenly asked, Iain raised an eyebrow at him.

"Umm..." He started,

"Well, after New York is all cleared out I'm going to head there again and try and find my folks." Alfred broke in,

"You're from New York?" The boy asked, Alfred nodded,

"Yeah, hey little man, I never caught your name...where are you from?"

"My name's Felix! I'm from Poland, and you see the one over there going to get checked? That's Toris, but I just call him Lithy cause he's from Lithuania." Felix exclaimed excitedly.

"Well, I might head back to England." Arthur explained quietly. Felix smiled,

"I have no idea where I'm going to go. Maybe I'll get a farm or something like I had back in Poland. I'll probably stay in America though. They seem to have it more figured out, and if this does happen again, I won't have to make another quick escape- oh, my turn. I'll talk to you later kay?" With that he turned and walked towards the curtain to get checked.

"He's really talkative, huh?" Elizabeta asked from beside them.

"Really." Iain agreed and turned to look her over with scrutinizing eyes. He had to admit she was good looking: long curly brown hair that fell around her face in rings, dark iridescent emerald eyes danced playfully under the shade of full black lashes and pale pink lips formed an intoxicating smile. Iain nearly smiled himself in response to her lighthearted grin.

"Where are you from?" He asked casually raising a ruby eyebrow.

"Hungary." She said with a smirk, "Lemme guess...Scotland." Iain grinned,

"Is it that obvious?" She nodded,

"Hey, I think it's your turn to go up." She motioned for Iain to step ahead of her towards the curtains.

"Afraid of needles?" Iain asked with a grin,

"Oh I've been checked...they don't use too many needles." She admitted with a shrug, displaying the puncture wound from the needle on her right arm. When Iain twitched Alfred sniggered from beside him,

"I didn't know you were afraid of needles." He teased, Iain frowned in irritation, having hoped the youth wouldn't notice his displeasure.

"Well if you're so brave you're going first you cocky little shit!" Iain growled tossing Alfred bodily at the curtain.

~X~

Iain, Alfred, and Arthur were allowed to stay in a tent together, considering they all refused to be separated. It was a decent size and warm enough inside to make Iain happy. Inside there was three cots all lined up in a row with a few pairs of clothes and a couple blankets. Iain found the one farthest from the opening and plopped down face first.

"God, I never want to have to go through that again." Arthur mumbled and set himself down on the bed. The fabric was cold underneath him but it was still better than the hardly cushioned seats on the plane.

"Amen to that." Alfred said, "I never want a man that close to my ass ever again." Iain cackled evilly from his bed.

"Even me?" He demanded without looking up.

"Especially you!" The two yelped in unison. Amused Iain rolled over and lazily placed his hands behind his head.

"Fine by me. I don't think anyone would want to get that close to your ass-"

"Hey." A familiar voice called from outside the tent cutting off Iain's insulting tirade.

"Come on in Gilbert." Iain called as Gilbert poked his head through the tent flap,

"Food in the main hall, I hope you're hungry!" He smiled and motioned for the others to follow him; the three leaped out of bed and stumbled after him each snagging a jacket on their way out.

The group they had been with on the plane was waiting patiently for them outside. Once the remaining three joined in with them there was happy chattering among the group as they headed towards the food.

"Man I haven't eaten in hours!" The boy that Gilbert had titled Feliciano laughed, "Do you think they'll have pasta, Ludy-Ludy? I hope they have pasta. I really want pasta." Ludwig smiled at him,

"I know you do." He said giving the boy a pat on the head.

"For his sake and my sanity I hope they have pasta." Gilbert chuckled, nudging Iain who laughed in agreement.

The main hall was an extensive building with a tall ceiling and long tables set up throughout. Once they entered the much warmer room, Feliciano and several others nearly ran over to the food.

"PASTA!" Feliciano yelled bouncing with joy. Ludwig shook his head and followed after him. Iain got to the servers and looked over the selection. They piled his plate with pasta, a slice of unbuttered bread, and a bit of green beans.

"Got any beer?" He asked when a woman with graying brown hair pulled into a bun at the top of her head put a small glass onto his plate.

"Apple juice. It's close enough." She said,

"Bah..." Iain grumbled and took the juice without any further words to the woman. When he retrieved all of his food he slid into an empty spot at the table that their group claimed and huffed bitterly, "Don't have any beer my ass, I bet she was hoarding it all to herself." He muttered shoveling a large bite of noodles into his mouth.

"Can you believe this?" Gilbert asked planting himself down next to Iain, the rest of the spots being filled in the blink of an eye.

"Ah know!" Iain snapped, "They don't have beer!"

"Man, I can't believe they actually have this much food."

"She said apple juice was as good as beer!"

"We're going to live!"

"Tha-that's like saying eating shit is the same thing as eating prime rib!"

"I'm still in shock!"

"Me too!"

"This rocks."

"Ah hate my life!"

"Oh shut up!" Arthur interrupted sitting across from the two. Iain glared at him and snatched his juice. "Hey!" Arthur yelped,

"Compensation for choosing the military base without beer!" He snapped and downed the juice. Alfred sighed and placed his own juice onto Arthur's plate.

"Damn, what's got your panties in a bunch?" He asked sitting next to Arthur.

"BEER!" Iain growled and slammed his head down against the table.

"They don't have beer." Gilbert said with a frown. "Wait...they don't have beer?" He smacked his own head against the table with a whimper.

"Grow up." Said Elizabeta as she slid in-between Gilbert and Iain. The two instantly shifted over to make room for her. "You'll live."

"So, what do we do if this fails?" Felix asked, kicking his legs up against his seat happily.

"Fails?" Toris demanded,

"You know, like, if this places fails, gets taken over." Felix explained nonchalantly.

"What a terrible thing to say." Toris scolded softly, "We've been through enough, already."

"Yes, but you know that's what you said last time!" Felix argued.

"Well if anything happens, we stay together!" Feliciano piped up happily.

"Agreed." Ludwig grunted between mouthfuls of noodles.

"To Hell with that." Francis snapped from his spot at the table, "We're all screwed; it's only a matter of time."

"_Papa, veuillez être très_" Matthew murmured, "Have some hope." He whispered,

"Hope? Mathieu, we're all doomed!"

"Can I kick your ass? Please? It would make my day so much better." Iain asked, looking up at the Frenchmen with challenging eyes.

"Oh stop it." Elizabeta snapped bending over the table to smack Francis on top of the head, "It's not the end of the world!" she said with a huff. Iain leaned back the slightest bit so she wouldn't smack him when she sat back down.

"Hello, may I sit?" A thick Asian accent demanded through the crowd from behind Arthur.

"Oh, umm yes." Arthur shuffled over a bit.

"Thank you." Doctor Honda took a seat between the two blonds.

"So Dr. Honda, what's your story?" Alfred asked over the deafening roar of a conversation from the others.

"My story?" He asked,

"Yeah, like what's your name, where'd you come from? Because I can tell you ain't American."

"Oh, well, my name is Kiku Honda. You're right, I'm not American. I actually came from Japan about three years ago to become a doctor and study in America."

"Ah, so you've been here for a while then?" Arthur asked,

"Oh yes, I moved here to get a job and go to a few more years of college." Alfred nodded,

"Well you've been quite the busy bee." He said, Kiku smiled,

"Hai."

"What do you think on the subject of our discussion?" Arthur asked with the raise of an eyebrow

"I'm sorry, the what?" Kiku demanded curiously picking carelessly at his food.

"They say it isn't safe here, just like the other military bases. Everyone says that it will collapse like the rest." Arthur filled him in.

"Oh, I cannot say. But it is best to keep your hope in times of trouble, but not to keep them too high." Arthur nodded rubbing his chin.

"I do agree. Well I must say I'm stuffed, where are the showers here?" He asked

"I will direct you to them in a moment." Kiku smiled and finished shoveling down the remainder of his food.

"I'll join you." Alfred smiled, "As long as Kiku doesn't touch my butt again."

"Not until your next inspection."

"Ha! Wait...Next what now?

`~X~


	6. Chaos Rampant

**Warnings: Same old same old…blood guts gore. Character death**

Iain wasn't sure why, but even after lying in bed for five hours, he found himself unable to sleep. Sitting up in frustration Iain sighed and threw his blanket off with a grunt.

Looking around the room with eyes he wished would close he found that neither Arthur nor Alfred were suffering from his sleep deprivation. In fact both were sleeping silently, Alfred lying on his back and Arthur rolled away from him towards the rear of the tent. Iain knew it was ridiculous, but not being able to see Arthur's face or the gentle rise and fall of his chest under the blankets in the pitch black concerned him. Moving forward slowly as to not wake Alfred who he found was a notoriously light sleeper, Iain knelt down besides his brother's cot and gently brushed his hair from his face and glared down at him, waiting for a sign of life to appear on his brother's form.

He didn't have to wait long. In the dim lighting he could barely make out a gentle wisp of air streaming from his brother's mouth. Satisfied Iain stood without a sound and pulled open the flap to his tent.

The outside world was quiet, save for the mournful moans and groans of the undead filling the forest around the encampment. Glancing down at his watch Iain found that it was around three in the morning, later than he normally enjoyed staying up. Sighing in irritation he plucked one of the cigarettes he had gambled away from a soldier and lit it with a lighter he kept stashed in his pant pocket.

Taking a long draft of the cancer stick he leaned against a lamppost and released the smoke from a small gap between his lips. He took three similar draws from the cigarette before he felt calm enough to attempt sleep again.

That was until he heard the crack.

The sound of crunching wood and bending metal broke through the air like a gunshot. Looking up Iain blinked in confusion and began to frantically scan over the wall just a few tent rows down from him. It was a relatively simple design, meant to keep the infected out in the short amount of time they had to construct it.

A wood fence served as the first layer, followed closely by a chain link fence that was constantly being patrolled. There had never been more than five or six of the bastards when Iain had paced by the walls just a few hours before. He couldn't see anything from where he was standing, but he could sure as hell hear it.

"What in the…" He whispered as several more cracks and squeals of breaking wood surrounding him, all coming from the walls. Turning back to the light post where he had been resting he spotted a series of rungs that laced the side. Clambering up the sides without a second thought he peered out towards the wall from his new height advantage.

"Good God…" He whispered, as the full extent of the damage he had been hearing caught his eyes. Infected, hundreds of them…were pushing their way into the camp. Crawling out of the forest like a sort of hell bent stampede. "No…no no no….ARTHUR! ALFRED! WAKE UP!" He bellowed, sliding down the lamp and wincing as he struck the ground harder than he intended.

As if responding to his distress, alarms blasted into life around him in, like merciless screams filling his head and attempting to cloud his thoughts. Sprinting into his tent, he tore Arthur from his bed as Alfred fumbled to put on shoes. The siren blared out into the night, mingling with the screams of the infected.

"What's happening?" Arthur yelled over the fuss as Iain threw him some clothes before peering out of the tent. Outside was still nearly pitch black, figures only illuminated by the scattered spot lights and several fires that had sparked around the camp in the growing confusion. From a few hundred feet away, several figures turned towards him with black oozing from their mouths and open wounds laced along their arms and legs.

Iain quickly closed the flap and went to packing everything he could get his hands on into a blanket and tying it around his back like a backpack.

"FASTER!" Iain roared at the two flustered men dragging themselves into clothes in response to the disturbing sounds outside. "The infected got in!" He explained frantically searching for a weapon amongst small contents of the room.

"How?" Alfred hollered, his eyes wide with confusion.

"They broke through the damned walls! Just pushed through like…like...a tornado" He snapped latching onto one of the metal poles that had made up the bed posts and snapping it off. "Grab a weapon; we're getting out of here!" He snarled handing the pole to Arthur who paused nervously,

"What about the others? We said we'd stick together!" Iain huffed angrily, as Arthur tore his own pole from the bed while Alfred armed himself with one from his own bed.

"They survived running all the way through Europe, they can survive another hundred feet!" Iain snarled tossing Alfred a coat. As if summoned the flap was flung open, Kiku stuck his head in, his face dripping with blood.

"Good, you are alive." He sighed pushing the three metal bludgeons pointed at him aside. "Come with me, there is a building near the center we need to reach. It is barricaded and relatively safe. We shall go there until morning, after that I can guide us out of here safely." Iain shrugged and followed Kiku out of the tent quickly.

The outside was a battle field; blood spurted and spilled from every direction. Fleeing people fell and were overwhelmed quickly by the pursuing infected. Iain felt something grab onto his back and he spun around shoving his shoulder hard into its chest. An inhuman sputter fell from the beast as it fell to the ground.

Iain looked down to assure it was an infected before he bashed in its face.

A woman, wearing one of the many uniforms clawed desperately at his feet and snapped blood soaked teeth at him. Her glazed over eyes were locked only on him as he drove the makeshift spear down into her chest. She still kept moving, clawing for him hungrily, not even stunned by the wound. Iain's eyebrows knitted together and he stabbed her again, this time in the head. She stopped moving with a jerk. Unsatisfied, he stabbed her once again to be sure.

"Go for the head!" Iain called to his companions through the raging sounds of battle before continuing to follow Kiku through the throng.

"Got it!" Alfred's strained voice called back as he swung the metal pole into a man's skull. "I want my bat!" He cried as two more infected launched themselves at him with screams of hunger. Cursing he swung. The pole made impact with the first and stuck into the bone of its face with a sickening crunch. The second flung itself on to Alfred with a cry of could almost be glee. The force of the blow sent Alfred reeling, crying out as he was forced to the floor.

Before the creature could so much as touch him with its gnashing jaws, Kiku spun gracefully and with a quick flick of a sword pulled seamlessly from his belt, decapitated the monster as if there were no bones to hinder its process.

Stunned, Alfred accepted the hand Arthur extended. He was going to thank the Japanese doctor but the man had already moved on to slaughter another group of infected.

"Here, you dropped this." Arthur's shuddering voice squeaked out as the Brit handed the blood soaked weapon to Alfred with an attempted smile,

"Thanks man." Alfred smiled back and then turned back towards their destination, determination clearly marked across his face.

"Come on!" Iain ushered them forward towards the building that Kiku had spoken of earlier. They moved forward assuredly, only to nearly slam into Iain's back as he jerked to a stop. Opening their mouths to question his motives they paused mid sentence as a shriek filled the air around them.

"HELP!" Elizabeta's familiar voice screamed from one of the tents just to their right. Iain spun around to find the source of the voice, having heard it dully once before. "GET OFF!" The final shriek was enough to locate her and with a roar Iain lurched forward.

"Ah'm coming!" He yelled and ran without a word to the others towards the tent. Someone was already rushing towards the tent when he approached, he recognized Gilbert immediately as they reached their goal simultaneously. Impatiently Iain nearly shoved Gilbert out of the way and sprinted into the room.

Elizabeta was pinned on the ground; attempting to get an obese infected man off of her while she scrambled aimlessly for her discarded weapon. She struggled under his massive weight and his teeth were nearing her neck.

Iain didn't hesitate when she screamed, ramming forward he slammed into the man. He found quickly he over estimated the force needed to remove the man, and soon they both were flung forward into the bed. With a boneless fluidity the infected man snapped around and growled at Iain his mouth coming daringly close to Iain's face.

Iain wrestled with the man until he could get his ground. He felt a pained cry break free from his lips as once again claws raked across his chest, reopening already inflicted wounds from his infected mother. With a strangled battle cry, Iain slammed his fist into the infected's head and snatched the pole he had dropped in his charge.

Stunned, it took a moment before the man reached up again to claw at Iain's face, his neck straining to get his face close enough to devour the sweet flesh that was so close its mouth. Iain growled back driving his pipe into its skull. Instantly there was no motion from the form beneath him, but once again he felt the same madness that drove him to mutilate his mother well up in his face. Reaching back he began to strike again and again.

Blood splashed up onto his face, but Iain didn't stop. He couldn't even recognize the face underneath him but he kept going, letting out all his pent up anger. A hand brushed his back, then two, then four. With a grunt they pulled him backward off of the man. Livid, he snapped around weapon at the ready.

Gilbert and Elizabeta had their hand pressed firmly against his shoulders. Staring down at them they flinched at the anger in his face. Elizabeta broke the silence with a small smile.

"Come on Iain." Blinking, Iain allowed himself to be led out of the blood soaked tent.

"Yeah..." He muttered.

Satisfied, the group ran outside and attempted to locate the others. Outside they quickly spotted Felix and Toris running with their hands linked attempting to keep up with the fuming death machine that was Ludwig. Feliciano didn't move further than an inch behind him as Ludwig trudged through the crowds of people.

"That's mein Bruder." Gilbert sniggered in his off laugh as he pushed out into the walkway with a weapon of his own, cheering something in German that Iain couldn't quite make out. He was about to follow when Elizabeta snagged his arm.

"Hey, Iain..." Elizabeta looked up at the tall red head.

"Aye?" He asked, blinking.

"Thanks." She smiled at him, a deep blush spreading daintily across her cheeks. Instantly his cheeks flared as well, he hoped she didn't see it in the dark, but he had a feeling she did.

Averting his gaze in frustration Iain began to lead Elizabeta forward through the swarms of carnage and death. She clutched a frying pan closely to her chest as she ran forward. Iain raised an eyebrow at her choice of weapon but continued to run on, knowing that she probably grabbed the closest thing to her.

As they continued to run, Elizabeta was snagged from his side. Iain turned to help her but was quickly snagged by his own infected. The infected had tag teamed them.

Iain cursed and began to fight his way out from under the clenching and unclenching jaws of the woman that was pinning him. He held her at arm's length away and she attempted to lacerate his face, but instead the fingertips felt more like she was stroking him. He looked into the eyes and didn't see the eyes of an infected woman like he thought he would have, he saw green, bright green eyes not blemished by any make up. Scarlet hair fell around her face and she didn't have a fierce snarl, it was a calm smile. Was this his mother? Had she come back from the dead and come all the way here to save him?

She continued caressing him, it was odd to say in the least that this woman could possibly be his mother, but suddenly blood dripped from her mouth onto his face, splashing in scarlet drops against his ivory skin.

His eyes snapped back into focus. She no longer had bright green eyes; instead her irises were replaced by filmy gray sockets. Her hair no longer fell around her in a fiery red, but a blood caked grey. Iain cursed at his own stupidity and shoved up. He had help too: Elizabeta had fought off her attacker and was braining his zombie with the end of her frying pan with a roar of protest.

"Get off of him!" Elizabeta howled, Iain sat up stunned, and was pulled to his feet by a raging Elizabeta. "Hurry up! I'm losing sight of them!" She snarled Iain leapt forward out of his daze and trailed behind Elizabeta. He flashed a gaze back to Elizabeta's attacker; he was a mangled mess with a face that not even his own infected mother could recognize. Iain smirked; Elizabeta was one hell of a woman.

The building was not far in front of them now, only about a hundred feet through a final row of tents. The group that was in front of them now was struggling with the final group of zombies while Kiku struggled around with a nasty looking lock barring their entry into the building.

Iain shoved Elizabeta the final bit of distance before they rejoined with the rest of the group. Kiku let out an inaudible yell of triumph and shoved the doors open as they approached and before they joined the ranks once more, he began shepherding the group into the building.

Out of the corner of Iain's eye, a tall lanky man was struggling after them, shouting and screaming for them to wait he shoved through the next wave of zombies to reach the door. He almost reached them, but right before he could snag onto Kiku's outstretched hand three small infected children latched onto him and sunk their tiny teeth into his arm, leg, and neck. They ripped the flesh away hungrily and the man screamed out.

Horrified, Kiku went pale, and Alfred had to pull him inside before they slammed the doors shut and barricaded themselves inside.

Luckily enough for them the lights were still working in the building, and though they didn't dare turn them all on, Kiku flipped on enough for them to make their way around. All the while the others struggled with the furniture to create a barrier on all the entrances and exits.

"Let's take roll." Ludwig snapped over the dull panic, "Who all is here?" He asked, Kiku nodded at the motion and struggled to find a paper and pen.

The front desk had both; he ripped a page from a journal and then motioned for Ludwig to continue.

"I'm here..." Feliciano panted from his spot on the floor exhaustively lying against Ludwig's leg in a mad attempt to get him to hold still. Kiku jotted down the name.

"Francis and Mathieu are here." Francis announced, Iain cursed under his breath loud enough for the Frenchmen to hear him and send him a dirty look. Iain simply smirked and sat back against the wall, his breathing still heavy from the long run.

"Felix and Toris." Felix called with an attempted smile,

"Alfred and Arthur." Arthur called, marching up to his brother and slapping him bodily across the face. "You crazy son of a bitch! I can't believe you just left us to go save that trollop!" He hissed under his breath.

"Not now Arthur!" Iain growled, wincing as he rubbed the spot his brother struck. "Iain's here." Iain yelled snagging his brother's hands before he could strike again. Kiku nodded with a small frown, and continued to jot down the final names shouted out to him.

"Elizabeta!"

"Gilbert!"

"Alright, is that all?" Kiku whispered glancing up. Ludwig nodded solemnly. "No one else was saved?" He asked sighing when no one spoke up. There were a few murmurs of disappointment and sorrow.

"What are we going to do?" Felix demanded,

"Yeah, we're locked in a building with virtually no escape." Toris muttered,

"We are heading to the roof." Kiku said, "The infected will eventually leave if they no longer smell food. The farther away we are the better, or at least this is what I have been told by the military forces here." There were some grumbles of agreement,

"But, how are we going to get up there? Are there infected in the building?" Toris demanded,

"If there are, we kill them" Iain snapped, "Now, catch your breath and then let's get our asses out of here! That barricade won't hold that many of them for long!" The group flinched at the harshness of the answer, but nodded numbly.

"Thank you Iain-san." Kiku dipped his head in appreciation at the man.

"Not a problem." Iain huffed and closed his eyes for a minute, still trying to gather air back into his lungs.

They took ten minutes of complete silence before Kiku finally stood again and began to make his way to the stairway. "We need to go now." He said, "The door is straining under their weight and won't hold for much longer." The group all stood in a silence and Ludwig and Gilbert helped Kiku move the barricade they placed leading to the stairs.

Felix pulled a flashlight out of his jacket and handed it over to Kiku, "It will help." He smiled kindly; Kiku nodded at him and flicked it on.

Flashing the beam around the empty stairwell, he found it was clear.

"Shut the door behind us." Kiku told them as he began to step down the hallway. "Gilbert-san, Ludwig-san, please watch the rear." The large German brothers nodded and fell towards the back.

The hallway was deafeningly silent, Iain wanted to crack a joke just to hear a voice, regardless if it was his own or not. But this wasn't the time for jokes, any noise could attract an infected person, they were attracted to noise, he had figured this much out from the beginning.

Kiku lead up the staircase at a steady pace that left Iain breathing heavily. He picked his way up quicker than Iain would have dared, shining the beam along the walls and up the stairs in order to spot anything out of the usual.

The pace was monstrous, but it was only going to get quicker when a horrifying crack filled the air around them.

"We have a problem!" Ludwig yelled over a sudden rush or roars and moans. Kiku spun around and demand that everyone shut the door and get up the stairs as quickly as possible.

"They're coming!" Gilbert snarled peering down over the stairwell towards where they had come.

"We can barricade the roof!" Kiku hollered over the sudden commotion. The first of the infected began to pour into the stairwell beneath them with screams and moans of hunger. Sounds of cracking metal and splintering wood as their mass strained the stairs soon filled the air

"Go!" Kiku yelled and the group began a full sprint up the stairs.

They had reached the fifth level without the infected catching up, but everyone was tired, their feet stepping out clumsily up the steps. Kiku bit his lip as he noticed the group was straggling behind. The infected were gaining quickly on their tail, but it appeared they would be able to outrun them.

That was until Toris slipped.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Toris missed the final step of the stair leading to the sixth floor and with a single cry for help, began to tumble backwards. Every hand seemed to reach for him, but none were able to reach the doomed boy.

He stumbled down the stairs and landed with a thud into an infected man that was leading the group up the stairs. With a moan of delight the infected man, without hesitation, sunk his teeth deeply into Toris' neck.

With a screech of agony Toris thrashed as carnivorous canines broke through the pallid skin of his jugular and tore into the sweet rewards beneath. Toris struggled for only a moment before falling limp under the ravenous monsters grip. The spurts of sticky red blood pooling from his jugular vein stopped as quickly as they came, and as they stopped, the infected began to frenzy.

Felix screamed as he watched the blood ooze from the ragged wound in Toris' neck "NO!" Arthur, who was standing closest to him, attempted to snag the boy as he screamed launched himself down the stairs. His hands falling short he was helpless in stopping the boy as Felix sprinted towards his ultimate demise.

Everything seemed to stop as the group watched him grab onto Toris' limp arms and attempt to pull him from the infected's grasp. Screaming he was slowly being pulled into the horde and the group was helpless to do anything. As if to add insult to injury, Toris lurched upwards and bit deeply into Felix's arm. The following scream pulled the group back into reality as they moaned and sobbed in terror.

Felix thrashed and pulled at the iron grip of the infected Toris and the man that had killed him. Felix seemed to last impossibly long, with the blood surging down his arm as more infected to dash up the stairs and feast upon his still live flesh.

He either had fallen unconscious, or died, because the screams died down and was left with only the moans and growls of the zombies below. Elizabeta gagged as she turned to look down at what was left of her longtime companions. She felt Gilbert slide his hand into hers and urge her up the remainder of the stairs with a shout. Tears stung in her eyes as she followed Gilbert with a sob of disbelief.

Finally the roof came into view, the fear of falling tugged at their fear crazed minds. Kiku kicked the door open and they were all blasted with glacial air.

"Shut the door!" Kiku screamed, "And get ready!" The group did as they were told. Gilbert and Ludwig held the doors shut as the other scavenged around the roof for weapons to protect themselves and anything to stop the infected from breaking through the door.

Francis rounded a corner and found a large stack of filled crates, "Hey! Over here!" He cried motioning for the others to come. They dragged the boxes in front of the door and Iain shoved himself forward with his pole to pry them open, a large array of sports equipment lay in the boxes, Iain smirked and withdrew a metal bat.

Tossing it to Alfred he was met with a cry of glee. Swinging the bat Alfred moved to step in front of the door as a first line of defense along with the two German brothers.

Arthur pulled a cricket bat with a smile,

"I didn't know you Americans played cricket." he smiled rotating the wooden bat between his hands.

"We don't." Alfred responded when Arthur took up a position next to him his entire form shaking nervously.

"Golf club!" Iain cackled when withdrawing several of the metal objects, "Where's the damn bag, ah don't want to have to carry them around like this." He rummaged through the box and finally withdrew the bag in question; sliding all of the clubs into the bag he grabbed one randomly and held it at the ready.

The rest of the group grabbed a few weapons of their own before they slid the box into place in front of the door. Matthew stepped next to Alfred with a shy smile. He clutched a hockey stick to his chest and had several others in a bag on his back.

"Ready for this Mattie?" Alfred asked, but before Matthew could respond Kiku yelled over them,

"Hurry, let's get over to that room." He gestured towards a small box sized room that might have held the generator, "It will be easier to defend then being out in the open." The group rushed towards it as quickly as they could.

A horribly unnerving noise called from behind them and an infected man started slithering through an gouge in the door, he appeared to be the only one able to fit for the moment but was soon followed by all the boxes being pushed away and a horde of nearly twenty or thirty zombies staggering onto the roof. Kiku growled something in Japanese before tightening his grip on the sword and standing at the ready,

"Kill, don't hold back." He yelled back at the group. Alfred took up his right flank and Gilbert his left. Together the three rushed towards the infected.

Kiku lifted his sword and brought it down sharply into the neck of an infected woman that had gotten too close, he danced forward and cut into the torso of another man that lurched forward hungrily. Alfred held his position at Kiku's side swung his bat thickly into the skull of a indistinguishable infected person. Blood splattered against his face, warm against the brisk night air. Still he pushed forward although he felt the blood stiffen and nearly freeze against his skin upon impact.

The group surrounded quickly, but still seemed to have the upper hand. They had weapons. Kiku lead them forward, cutting and slicing through the infected until he felt a hefty impact on his chest. He staggered back snatching at what had gripped him, teeth nipped close against his neck and he stumbled further backward.

Several people hollered after him, but he was too focused with the infected woman that snapped at him. She dragged claws against his left arm, penetrating deep into his flesh. His arm nearly fell limp from the sudden blood loss and his head swam, he staggered back once more.

Kiku felt the back of his knees slam into something and his legs fell out from under him, sending him flying backwards. Instead of landing against the hard pavement like he expected his legs dangled in the air. He had fallen over the edge of the building. He reached up and clung to the edge of the cement but felt a thick sting on his chest. Risking a look down he saw a crescent shaped wound beginning to ooze scarlet against his pure white shirt. He opened his mouth to protest, but shut it instantly, knowing that there was nothing to protest against. He instead watched as the woman who had bit him fell down the seven story height and landed with a spurt of crimson against the snow-white ground.

Kiku abruptly felt his hand slip against the ice on top of the ledge. He attempted to bring up a second hand to grab onto the edge but found it hopeless. His arm was mangled and useless to him now. He let his grip slip and he began to fall, but tight hands gripped around his outstretched fingers and attempted to hoist him up.

He looked up to see Alfred struggling to pull him upwards onto the roof once again. The American's cerulean eyes were wide and terrified as he shot looks over his shoulder to make sure none of the surviving infected could sneak up behind him. Kiku simply smiled at him and attempted to make his fingers go limp. "I have been bitten Alfred-san." He told him, but Alfred didn't seem to hear him. "Please, let go. I don't wish to become one of those." Alfred still didn't register, but he stopped tugging on Kiku's arm.

"What?" He asked, shock plain on his face, "Kiku, please help me out man!" Kiku shook his head and gestured towards the roof,

"My sword," he began, "Take it. I will no longer need it." Alfred shook his head,

"Come on man, don't' do this! You're the one who knows what to do! We can't lose you!" He attempted to come up with something, anything that would change Kiku's mind, but it was set. "Don't do this…" He croaked gripping for hold on Kiku's slender arms.

"Don't do what? Infect you all? Kill every last one of you because I agree to travel with you regardless if I am infected or not?" Alfred's hand was slipping from the sweat, but he quickly recovered with a tighter snag around Kiku's wrist.

"It's just a scratch!" Alfred pleaded scrabbling at Kiku's slipping hands his muscles straining under the weight.

"I can assure you that this is not the case." Kiku said quietly, "Can I tell you something, Alfred-san?" Kiku asked, Alfred nodded his blond hair falling into his eyes, as tears streamed down his face. "You remember those people in the beds? The one's without limbs?" He prodded, Alfred nodded, he remembered seeing them when he went to get checked for infection, "They had been bitten. We amputated the infected limbs in hope that they would survive, they didn't. Once bitten the infection spreads at a rapid pace-" Kiku cut into a coughing fit and hand went slack in Alfred, Alfred lunged forward again and clenched his hand around Kiku's wrist, "You are as good as dead." With that Kiku dug his fingernails into Alfred's wrist causing the man to drop him with a yelp. With a sigh of relief, Kiku tumbled towards earth.

Alfred screamed after him and tried to scrabble for his extended hand again, but it was all worthless. Kiku fell. Alfred turned, not wanting to see the man's impact with the ground. His eyes burned and his throat was as dry as the desert. Behind him the battle was over, the last of the infected having been slain when he had finished attempting to save Kiku. Bodies of the infected had all fallen and were now being checked to assure there were no survivors.

The rest of the group was facing him now, their eyes pained as Alfred slumped to his knees in the snow. He barely noticed when Arthur knelt down beside him and wrapped his arms around his shuddering shoulders. Behind him, he heard Ludwig lift Kiku's blade from the snow and turned when the scabbard appeared in his peripheral vision.

"Kiku wanted you to have it." Ludwig snapped when Alfred looked stunned. "Take it." He urged, nudging the scabbard into Alfred's red hands. Grimly Alfred accepted the weapon, pulling it in front of him as he leaned against the wall surrounding the roof.

Much to his curiosity, Alfred noticed something tied around the hilt. A piece of paper flapped in the wind. Curiously Alfred untied the small red ribbon it to reveal the list of names in Kiku's neat handwriting. Mechanically, he took the pen that was tied with it and crossed out Kiku, Felix, and Toris' name.

Shaking his head he held the paper to his chest a moment before redoing the knot in the string to hold the paper in place and turning towards the remaining group.

"Did we lose anyone else?" Alfred demanded his voice quiet, "I asked if we lost anyone." He snapped with sudden authority. "Answer me damn it! Who else did we lose?" He screamed, his eyes flashing. No one spoke,

"Alfred..." Arthur began, squeezing his shoulder firmly. "No one, we just lost the three." He sighed when Alfred seemed dissatisfied by the answer.

"Good."

**~X~X~X~**

**This is one hell of a long chapter! Review for continuation!**


	7. The Escape

**Warnings: Blood/Gore.**

The group was silent as the sun came up from over the mountains. Staring out over the roof they could still see a few straggling infected staggering amongst the charred remains of the camp, but most had moved on during the night, hell bent on finding more survivors to mutilate in their constant march for food.

Stuck up on the roof the group was numb, the frigid air dulling even the harshest of emotions. All night, they had been too cold to attempt to make conversation with the other survivors. The only noise the small circle of survivors created came from Elizabeta, curled despondently into Gilbert's chest. Though she was attempting to cry silently over the loss of her companions her shuddering sobs were still audible from Gilbert's ice coated shoulder.

Watching the two from across the circle Iain felt a pang of jealousy, but decided not to make anything of it: Elizabeta was probably better off with someone who knew how to comfort someone for now anyway. Still, he didn't like how Gilbert carefully stroked her hair, and liked it even less when he wrapped a defensive arm around her when he noted Iain's glare, as if to challenge Iain. Their silent challenge was destined to remain silent though as both knew it would be a horrible idea to start anything at the moment, considering just about everyone's nerves were shot.

Turning away in disgust Iain shuddered and shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets not minding for once that Arthur had curled up next to him in a vain attempt to sleep. Shivering slightly, Iain felt the heat seeping from the wounds in his chest leaving him near hypothermia and seeking heat from anywhere around him.

Attempting to find anything to take his mind off the dull roar in his chest, he found himself looking around the group. Instantly he could see that they were all just as cold as he was. Even Ludwig, who had the thickest coat, was shuddering violently.

He was beginning to think that perhaps they would all be dying there, frozen to the roof when suddenly Alfred stood. Instantly all eyes shot to him, their sleep deprived eyes startled.

"It's morning. We need to get out of here before anymore infected figure out we're up here." He announced, rubbing the tip of his nose to warm it. Still startled the group stared up at him in confusion, their ice-covered brains not comprehending his words at first. It was Ludwig who finally broke the silence.

"How do you propose we get out of here?" He demanded harshly. "The entire bottom floors are probably overrun…I don't want to risk taking the stairs."

"We'll find a way, we always do." Gilbert croaked from beside his brother, stiffly attempting to stand. "We lost a lot of people, but I think we can still get out of here." Alfred nodded in agreement,

"You're right though Ludwig, I don't think anyone wants to risk going back down the stairs." Alfred muttered, "There should be a fire escape somewhere around here... we just have to find it and then we can get down." Feliciano smiled hopefully from over his scarf.

"Then we're home free, right?" He demanded moving to his feet as Ludwig did.

"I hope so Feli...I really hope so." Alfred smiled at the Italian, loving the boy's hopeful attitude.

"We'll be safe, right Ludwig?" Feliciano questioned the German, wrapping himself around his arm in an attempt to find warmth. Ludwig winced at the question.

"I'll protect you Feli." He promised, Feliciano grinned and squeezed his arm.

"Okay, enough with the sap-fest, let's get going." Iain sighed, wincing as he stood up, waving off the offered hand that Alfred sent his way.

"I see a ladder over there," Arthur pointed out, his eyes as sharp as ever. "It's possible that could be the fire-escape." Alfred ran over to the edge where he was pointing,

"Looks good to me, but I'm not sure it can hold all of our weight. It looks kinda old." He muttered, "Ludwig, you're a big hunk of man, come try it out." Alfred suggested, Ludwig twitched,

"_Nein_, its your idea _trottel__."_ He muttered, "You do it." Alfred sighed,

"If I knew what you just called me I'd totally smack you...but fine I'll go." Alfred gulped as he leaned over the edge and began to slink one leg over at a time, the five foot drop to where the platform started seemed like it was a twenty foot plummet. He was about to slide down when frozen hands grabbed his arms followed closely by a second pair. Looking up he found that Arthur and Mathew had taken hold of his arms.

"We'll lower you down." Arthur said to him, Alfred nodded his thanks at the two as they slowly helped him get down onto the platform. They released him reluctantly, and winced as there was a creak and a violent shudder from the escape, but to their surprise it held firm.

"Okay guys, it's all good. Go one at a time, and keep an eye on the windows; we don't know if the infected got in the rooms." Alfred ordered as he began the descent down the stairs that led to the crimson stained ground below.

He took one step at a time as he drifted down the steps, he heard Arthur come up behind him, but was too busy watching out for rusted metal to notice who followed after him.

The travel that should have taken maybe two minutes was now running into a half hour their movements were so slow. Alfred could clearly see the ground now, the pure white world of snow reflecting the sun up at them.

After what felt like eternity, at last his foot found the ground. The snow crunched under his shoes as he turned to face the group with a triumphant smile.

"Where to now?" Arthur demanded, his face red from the wind slapping against his face.

"We'll try and find some way to escape in a vehicle, that way we don't have to go on foot." Alfred said quietly, "And maybe some guns."

"I think the awesome me can be of some assistance." Gilbert smirked as he stepped up next to Alfred. "There's an armory on the way to the doctor's. A hall of guns and weapons the soldiers were using. I'm sure we could take which ever ones we want now that the soldiers are gone. Also, there are Hummers everywhere, if we find one that's unlocked we can bust out of here in style." Alfred smiled at the albino wanting to hug the man desperately.

"You truly are awesome, Gil." He laughed noting the instant smile that formed on Gilbert's face. "Now lead the way to that hall." Gilbert gave a gruff nod and began to walk towards where he saw the guns, a plank of wood bouncing off the palm of his hand.

The infected that were left in the camp were slow and deformed, their movements hindered by the thick snow. The group was easily able to dispatch them. He was positive they would make the distance to the armory without a hitch when he heard a sharp cry from Feliciano behind him.

Swirling as Gilbert slammed past him Alfred quickly spotted the problem: three of the infected, buried deep in the snow overnight had snagged onto Ludwig from under the drifts. The large German was on the ground, slamming at the infected as Mathew, Gilbert, and Elizabeta beat at the creatures with their mismatched weapons.

"_Löse dich von ihm__! _Let go of him!" Gilbert was screaming, stomping on one of the creature's faces with his boot until they were nothing more than a pile of mush. Eventually the group managed to pull Ludwig away, falling in a heap next to a burnt tent.

"Where the _holle_ did that come from?" Ludwig gasped as he lay sprawled out on the snow safe for the moment.

"Did they bite you?" Gilbert demanded shoving Arthur out of the way and examining his brother with a terrified look in his eyes. "They didn't bite you did they? I don't see anything…are you ok?" Ludwig nodded dumbly, allowing his brother to help him to his feet leaning against his brother for a moment before he righted himself.

"I'm fine…I'm fine bruder." He insisted, brushing off his anxious brother. "We need to move on bruder. You know the way out." Gilbert seemed reluctant, but his brother shook his head and waved him on. Grimacing Gilbert nodded:

"This way." He motioned, moving to the front of the group. "And keep your eyes on the damn ground, their just as dangerous down there as they are standing." He growled.

~X~

They reached the armory without any further incidents, but found that the armory was more populated with the infected than any other area. Feliciano was quick to suggest they dodge around them.

"If we don't kill them now, they're that much likely to sneak up behind us." Alfred snapped making the Italian flinch noticeably. "We take them head on, they're slow from the cold so we have a good shot at doing this without injuries." The group gave a few nods of agreement, not wanting to mention that the cold was hindering _their_ movements just as heavily. "Alright, on my signal we charge." He ordered. "Three..two…one…go go go!"

Alfred led the charge with a roar, Iain close behind him golf club raised and ready to clobber a few heads, with a quick exhale of air he pressed forward thrashing down with the deadly metal to crack open the head of the unlucky zombie in front of him.

Alfred held up the sword Kiku gifted onto him and brought it across as if it were a bat along the head of his new enemy, bone and skin both tearing apart without resistance. Swirling Alfred smirked as the blood splattered across his face and drove forward thanking Kiku for his gift the entire way.

The hall was nearly thirty feet away as the group pushed forward, Francis let out an exasperated sigh as he came closer his face splattered with gore. Just behind him Matthew was still in a brawl with a few infected, he swung a stick back and forth attempting to decapitate them, but it just wasn't sharp enough. The Canadian noticed this quickly enough and decided a new idea of attack. Pulling his hands above his head he drove it downward, shattering the skull of the infected he swung out with his leg and planted his foot promptly into the neck of the man now lying on the ground. He heard a crack that alerted him that he had most likely crushed the creature's windpipe.

Kicking upwards again he struck an infected woman in the nose, smiling to himself a bit he decided maybe Francis had been right about him taking ice-skating lessons along with his hockey. They both left him in top notch shape and he was probably now the most flexible person there.

He spun around again and landed a kick into one of the infected's nose, flattening it to the side before coming up and slicing his stick across the infected's face like a blade.

"_N'essayez même pas. _Don't even try._" _He smiled as the infected fell at his feet. Satisfied, Matthew turned once again and rushed towards the building.

"Hurry! Hurry!" Alfred was calling from the armory door, he held it open as wide as he could and motioned for everyone to book it inside. "Get in!" He yelled at the straggling Iain, who shot him a livid look, but obliged and fell into the building with a huff.

With the door shut, locked, and sufficiently barricaded the group collapsed.

"We made it!" Francis whispered,

"Everyone made it!" Elizabeta laughed wiping blood from her face and hands onto her sleeve. Iain nodded breathlessly attempting not to wheeze though his chest was now officially screeching in pain. He didn't sit down as the others did, afraid that if he did he would let on that he was in pain. He didn't need Arthur to worry.

"Find a gun, catch your breath, we still need to find a getaway car." Alfred ordered. Reluctantly the group moaned but stood, "Find a gun, but make sure you know how to shoot it, and you have enough ammo."

"Does anyone see a Tommy-gun?" Feliciano asked, Ludwig shot him a questioning look, "I know how to use that one-"

"Ja, I know, but this is a military base. I doubt they have guns like that." Feliciano shrugged and went to find a different machine gun to suit his fancy. The others picked guns of their choice and found a decent holster or strap to use.

"Remember, the guns are your last resort." Alfred announced, "I think they're attracted to sound so use your other weapons as much as you can and remember to grab backup ammo." Nodding, the group continued to scavenge around the shop to find a weapon that would work for them.

~X~

They took an hour to rest and prepare and soon everyone was ready to take the outside once again Alfred began to open the door, "Let's find a humvee or something and get out of here." He smiled and kicked the door the rest of the way open. They all rushed forward with their new weapons ready to kill.

Alfred led the pack once again swinging his blade ready to maim. His new baseball bat strapped safely to his back and double pistols in a holster at his waist. He rushed through a small group of infected his eyes scanning everywhere to find the car that could fit the survivors. Finally his eyes locked in on a Humvee that would serve their purpose.

"That way!" He called, "Get to the car!" the group all turned to see where he was pointing and went into a full sprint after him. Alfred wrenched open the driver's seat only to be pushed back by Gilbert,

"I actually know how to drive this thing buddy." He smiled and slid into the car; not hindered, Alfred dove over the albinos lap to get in and slid into the passenger's seat. Coming around the other side, Arthur went to share the seat with Alfred as the others clambered into the back. Several people sat on the floor while others scrunched together on the seats.

"Go man! Go!" Alfred called and Gilbert thrust his foot down on the gas and they were out of there.

~X~

They hit the road and were on their way away from the deserted camp. Everyone sat in silence leaning against the person they were most comfortable with.

"Okay," Iain sighed, wincing as he Feliciano accidentally brushed against his injuries. "I don't know about you guys but I could really go for a nap." He muttered, "And a beer, but that might be asking too much" he added.

"Amen to that bruder." Gilbert nodded without taking his eyes off of the road. "Well let's figure something out here." He said, "I know that no one is going to agree with me, but I think we need to find a leader to this posse." He admitted,

"A leader?" Ludwig demanded, "We just got out of that Hell hole and now we have to decide out of total strangers who is going to lead us?" He scoffed, "I'd rather keep it at a democracy."

"Me too." Feliciano agreed with a bob of his head,

"Well let me put it to you like this," Gilbert sighed, "We need to decide to go left or right." His fingers were tapping against the wheel impatiently as he continued."We don't know which way goes where and so we put it up to a vote, we're half and half so we decide to split up and go the way that we each chose, at the end of each way there is a horde of zombies about the size of a small city, we can't take them and we all die because some snot nosed ass hole was too stuck up to agree that maybe we need to stick together and thinks his opinion is better than everyone else. I say we go to one person making the choices."

"Well that's only one person's judgment!" Ludwig snapped, "People make mistakes, what if they lead us the wrong way?" He asked,

"That's when you say, 'hey, you're wrong. Let's talk this through' and we give an opinion." Gilbert yelled back, his eyes twitching noticeably.

"Well power has been known to get to people's heads so they don't always listen!" Ludwig protested.

"Then we put someone else in charge!" Gilbert snapped.

"We can only do that so many times!" Ludwig groaned stubbornly.

"Well then why don't you come up with a better idea then yelling at me to make a point!" Gilbert roared his fists white knuckled against the steering wheel.

"Enough you two!" Alfred shouted, "You saw what happened at the hotel, Kiku actually knew how to lead us and we followed and for the most part we survived. It was only because we listened that we made it out at all. So I agree with Gilbert, we have one solidified leader and others can chip in their opinion when necessary. Got that?" Gilbert grinned triumphantly while Ludwig rolled his eyes and huffed,

"Now that we got that decided, who are we going to choose to be the leader?" Arthur asked from his spot next to Alfred, uncomfortably pressed against the window.

"I vote Al." Gilbert said, startling the American.

"Wait what? I don't think…" Alfred protested too shocked to argue well.

"Yeah, he did lead us out of there without casualties." Elizabeta added, ignoring the American blatantly.

"Ve~ you're right, I go with Alfred." Feliciano smiled, Ludwig's eyebrow twitched, but he didn't disagree.

"_Vous êtes sérieux? _Really? He's just a kid!" Francis snapped, "He'll lead us into a brick wall before he leads us out of here, right Mathieu?"

"Actually papa, I agree with them." Matthew murmured, "Alfred, although a bit loud and obnoxious, has been a decent lead-"

"Then it's decided!" Iain smiled, "Al, looks like you're in charge so you'd better start leading and shit." Iain laughed his eyes sealing as he leaned against Elizabeta ignoring the raised eyebrow she gave him.

"Seriously?" Alfred asked, a bit shocked,

"You're the obvious pick." Elizabeta shrugged, patting Iain's head with a chuckle.

"I don't think anyone-" Matthew began.

"No one else is qualified enough." Gilbert smiled, leaving Matthew to pout.

"Okay then..." Alfred whispered "I guess if that's what you guys have decided…" He squeaked shooting a look around the group.

"I still don't like this." Ludwig grumbled bitterly.

"Kesesese…You're just mad you aren't in charge, _bruderchen_." Gilbert teased.

"I think you're right." Feliciano giggled, when Ludwig dipped further into his seat rubbing his forehead angrily.

"Well where to captain?" Gilbert asked, shooting a look at their newly dubbed leader.

"We should head towards the ocean." Alfred said after a moments thought, "As far as we know zombies can't swim."

"To the ocean we go then." Gilbert grinned, his foot stepping on the gas as they vaulted over the final layer of fences and into review.

~X~

**Read and Review and you can hug the person of your choice!**


	8. The Sniper

**Warnings: Violence, gore, swearing, mentions of character death.**

Iain's eyes cracked open just before dawn. Much to his surprise instead of the sight of the crowded humvee he was faced with an ocean of brown obscuring his vision. Startled when he found that warmth was somehow being pressed against his throbbing chest, soothing a considerable amount of the constant stinging under his skin, he struggled to find a reason for such an occurrence. It was then that he noticed that ocean of brown blocking his vision was Elizabeta's hair, and she was leaning into his shoulder sound asleep.

Noticing how close her face was to touching one of his many wounds, Iain cautiously began to move away only to wince when she opened her eyes groggily. Frowning, she smacked him lightly across the face before she resumed using his arm as a pillow. Confused, Iain raised an eyebrow but let his head fall back against the leather headrest. Chuckling when she began to snore quietly once again.

Arthur turned back from the front seat and suppressed a chuckle. Even during this apocalyptic disaster Iain still managed to be a ladies' man. Noticing his brother's amused face peering back at him, Iain pressed a finger to his lips to motion for Arthur to be quiet. The younger blond rolled his eyes and wiggled so he was facing forward in his chair once more attempting to not nudge Alfred who was intently staring at a map he had dug up from the glove compartment.

"Which way are we headed?" Arthur asked, attempting to keep his voice low in an attempt to not wake his sleeping companions. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Alfred sighed heavily.

"I'm debating going through Oregon or go through Canada to get to the ocean." He murmured, "Maybe even Washington..." He drawled off, his eyes narrowing as he began to mutter incoherently to himself.

"Are you sure the ocean is the right way to go?" Arthur demanded, attempting to keep the blonde's attention for longer than a few seconds.

"I hope." Alfred chuckled, though his gaze never lifted towards Arthur's. "I really have no idea where else to go. I don't trust the military anymore, and frankly heading inland would be a horrible idea." Arthur couldn't disagree, sighing he reached out and patted the stressing American's arm,

"Listen, we're going to get through this. Don't worry, we'll figure something out." Looking up for the first time, Alfred shot him one of his famous smiles.

"Thanks buddy, I know...I'm just under a lot of pressure." He yawned rubbing his eyes."I didn't go to college in England so I could be flown back over the states to be mauled by zombies, you know?" He chuckled,

"Oh I know the feeling." Arthur chuckled humorlessly, "Have you slept since yesterday?" He demanded frowning when Alfred shook his head. Clicking his tongue angrily he snatched the map from Alfred's hands and motioned for the man to sleep. Glaring, Alfred reluctantly crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against headrest, almost instantly falling into a restless sleep.

Noticing Alfred had finally fallen asleep; Gilbert shot a look over at Arthur, "I have to pull over." He yawned groggily, "Either that or wake up Ludy and have him take the wheel, I need to catch some Z's or I'm going to crash us into a tree." Shuddering at the thought, Arthur nodded quickly.

"We have to keep moving, I'll wake up Ludwig." The British man muttered as he leaned over the back seat and stretched desperately to smack Ludwig's knee in a pathetic attempt to wake him up. Unfortunately, Feliciano had draped himself over Ludwig's like a dog and was blocking Arthur's reach. Shaking his head with a small smile at the Italian's actions Arthur unbuckled himself and, careful not to disturb Alfred, scrambled into the small space where the rest of the group was resting.

Patting Ludwig on the cheek gently he held up his hands defensively as the German eyes cracked open, narrowing in on Arthur's face lividly his hands flickering over his knife at his hip.

"No need to stab me. Your brother needs you to take the wheel." Arthur explained calmly, his eyes warily examining the hunting knife. "He's just about to pass out driving, or I would let you sleep." Understanding, Ludwig nodded slowly shifting Feliciano to the side so that he was resting up against the dozing Mathew instead. Feliciano let out a whimper of dismay but curled towards Matthew regardless. Shifting past Arthur as Gilbert pulled the humvee over Ludwig tapped his brother's shoulder.

"Bruder let me take the wheel." He insisted receiving a relieved smile from Gilbert.

"Be my guest!" Gilbert croaked, flashing a huge exhausted smile and clambering clumsily into the back seat while Ludwig crawled over the back of the chair and plopped down into the driver's seat.

"Alright, which way am I going?" Ludwig demanded, shooting a look back at Arthur as the man attempted to decipher Alfred's graceless scrawls doodled across the map. Narrowing his eyes Arthur traced one of the lines with his finger until he found to his dismay that Alfred had already scratched that route off. Apparently taking pity on Arthur, Gilbert snatched the map from his hands and quickly located Alfred's selected route. Tapping it with a gloved finger he shoved it back into the flushed Arthur's hands before finding an open spot next to Elizabeta and leaning against her side with a satisfied sigh. Iain shot him an irritated glance as he settled down.

"Apparently we're headed towards the-" A series of gunshots, distant and consistent, rang out through the silent air breaking the silence for a ten second span.

"Go towards wherever the hell those came from!"Alfred snapped groggily as his head snapped off his arm. "If it's a survivor from the camp or not, if we can save someone today we will." Alfred grumbled rubbing the small amount of sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Even if we could save this person," Ludwig began with a glare. "How do we know if they're even safe? Obviously they aren't very smart...drawing all that attention using a gun. Do you really want to risk our own, for someone who isn't one of us?" Alfred looked stunned, as if the thought had never crossed his mind.

"They could be useful to us. Besides that, that's one more human life that we've saved." He hissed in response.

"How do you know they're even still human?" Ludwig muttered, but was promptly ignored by the American.

"What direction did the shots come from?" Alfred demanded, shooting a look at Arthur who jumped at the sudden glare.  
>"Um...I didn't hear...I mean it all happened so fast..." He stammered, straining to remember the location of the shots, but failing miserably.<p>

"They came from the East, probably a half mile back the way we came. There was a small town we passed that had a few _infizierten_. Maybe it came from there." Gilbert grunted groggily from the back, his red eyes bloodshot and rimmed with thick dark bags. "Don't argue with Alfred, Ludwig...can you just go along with someone else's decision without second guessing them for once?"

"Go to sleep Gilbert." Ludwig huffed, though he was pulling the car around as he did so. Gilbert grumbled something else that no one could understand, and was quickly falling asleep once more.

Alfred smiled in victory; it felt good to have Gilbert on his side especially if that meant he could get the ever reluctant Ludwig to agree with something he said. Shooting a look at the speeding German he could tell that Ludwig was still unconvinced. Noticing that Alfred was looking at him, Ludwig glared angrily at the shorter man, but said nothing.

The town that the now unconscious albino had identified as the likely candidate for their mystery shooter had obviously been a very sparsely inhabited area even before the infection began. A few scattered houses, as well as a grocer, coffee shop, and a bait and tackle store that doubled as both the post office and gift shop were the only buildings that made up the main street.

Driving through the town at a crawl the Humvee nudged aside a few confused looking infected with the fender. The group inside the vehicle was mostly awake at that point, keeping cautious gazes locked in on the road and the spaces in between houses. Ludwig's hands were white knuckled on the wheel, his face drawn and anxious as if he expected the gunman to come running from one of the houses to kill them all.

"If only I could hear where they came from again." Alfred's murmur broke the silence like a sheet of ice cracking on a lake, causing most of the group to leap nearly a foot in the air. "Sorry." he apologized quickly, not expecting the dramatic reaction he had received.

"I think...I think I see something in that window over there." Francis muttered, peering out through the windshield over Ludwig's shoulder. "Right there...in that cafe. I see...yes...that is most definitely..." Alfred barely had time to look towards where Francis was pointing before a series of shots rang out through the street and some of the zombies uselessly battering the sides of the humvee collapsed. "A gun." Francis finished with a wince.

"Holy SHIT. That bastard is one hell of a shot...heh...damn..." Iain laughed peering over Ludwig's other side to gape at the now dead zombies. "I ain't getting out of the car first...just saying. Cause if he's gonna start shooting I wanna be in the nice bulletproof military vehicle."

"Wuss" Elizabeta huffed stretching groggily. "Alfred...are we all going in?" She demanded.

"Ah volunteer to guard the humvee! Eliza...you are free to stay with me." Iain winked, flinching when Elizabeta smacked his cheek.

"Are we going or not?" Arthur snapped, fidgeting with his cricket nervously. Nodding, Alfred took instant command of the situation:

"Ludwig, Elizabeta, Iain, and Matthew you're with me! The rest of you stay here and guard our asses, don't let anything come up from behind us! Got me? Okay, come on!" Without waiting a moment for protest from the obviously indignant Ludwig Alfred kicked open his door and began heading towards the cafe.

Alfred supposed the café, named 'Café Sweden' by a large tattered blue and yellow banner hanging over the front door, was a quaint little thing at some point. With calm white paint on the walls and a light blue trim it looked like a place his parents would have liked spending their weekends.

Though Alfred have liked to, he had no more time to examine the building as they reached the well reinforced doors.

Seeing as kicking open the doors would result a broken foot for one of their group, Alfred chose instead to use a stack of chopped wood to scramble into the upper window the sniper had moments before been shooting out of. Prying open the window a bit further he was surprised to find the room was empty of life with only a few bags of food and empty bullet shells to prove someone had been in the room at all.

Weaseling through the window with a grunt Alfred found himself quite literally falling into the building. Startled when he didn't hit the ground immediately, Alfred found himself lying face first on a child's bed. Confused Alfred sat up to examine the room.

Toys and pictures of a little boy with a goofy grin and a sailor suit covered every inch of the room. Unfortunately it did not look as if a child had recently been using the room.

A bit sadly, Alfred moved off the bed and allowed Ludwig and Iain to tumble into the room with matching grunts of discomfort. They were upright almost instantly with Matthew and Elizabeta following closely behind them.

Waving them forward Alfred took point out of habit, his Glock held close to his body as he gently pushed the door open with his free hand. Gesturing out the door with a nod Alfred moved from the room in a crouch intending to supply as little of a target as he could if the man was going to attack them.

Behind him, Elizabeta and Matthew had taken up the position on the wall across from the rest of the group, their gaze locked on the stairwell as well as the other rooms lining the hall. Ludwig was just behind Alfred, his broad shoulders forming a barrier between Alfred and anything that might come up from behind them. Iain stayed a bit further behind, standing the doorway to the room they had just exited as a sort of rear guard.

Alfred wanted to laugh, to anyone who might be watching, his group would appear to be a well organized military squad. Of course, he was proud of this because it meant his group could act like a well oiled machine even under pressure.

Nodding at Elizabeta, Alfred continued rushing down the stairs towards where he assumed the sniper would have retreated when he saw them approaching.

The stairs opened up into the café, the pitch black store making it all but impossible to spot any potential threats. Waving at Elizabeta he mouthed the word _flashlight?_ In hopes the woman would come through for him. Instead she shook her head and frowned anxiously. Groaning Alfred straightened a bit and lowered his gun in case it was frightening whoever was in the room.

"Listen! We aren't here to hurt you! We're here to help. My name is Alfred, and these are my friends." Alfred began, shooting a look towards a corner of the room when he swore he heard the shuffle of fabric. "Say something please? I'd really hate to accidentally hurt you!" Moving towards the noise with cautious feet Alfred slowly inched his way forward in the dark.

"Alfred..." Ludwig cautioned nervously, his mouth barely moving as he followed the shorter blonde. "I don't think that..." Alfred ignored him blatantly, moving instead towards a shape he was sure was the person he had seen before. Curled up in the corner quietly the man was absolutely still and obviously attempting to hide in plain sight.

"Don't be afraid." Alfred felt a cold sweat dripping down his neck as he nervously inched forward, his fingers inches away from the shape. Reaching down Alfred gripped the fabric of the person's shirt and tugged the fabric giving way as he did so, revealing, to his surprise, a mannequin . "What in the..."

"WAAAAH! Oooof." Matthew's cry of pain sent Alfred swirling. In the dark he could just make out Matthew's shape as the man flew over a second shape's shoulder and into a glass cabinet behind them. Rotating on its heel the shadow lashed out, nailing the startled Iain in the chest with a high, well-aimed roundhouse, sending him flying into Ludwig. Both men stumbled backwards into Elizabeta, knocking them all into a jumbled heap on the floor.

Now focused intently on Alfred the creature sprinted forward with what looked like a staff in one hand. Pulling out his gun with a yelp Alfred found himself suddenly relieved of his weapon as the shadow gripped the barrel in one hand and shoved its wooden weapon into Alfred's abdomen, paralyzing his breathing for a moment, with the other. Alfred went down like a stone, gasping and wheezing in a desperate search for air.

Cold steel pressed against his neck and Alfred was horrified to find that the shadow was pressing the barrel of a small pistol against his temple as well.

"Did you think you could just come in here and steal from me? Do you think I'm so stupid not to know your game? Well you're wrong, and now you're gonna end up just like the others. Dead." The shadow's voice was dark, haunted and strained as if he was fighting back some sort of tears.

"We're not here to steal!." Elizabeta wailed as she untangled herself from the pile. "Please don't do anything drastic." She begged when the shadow turned towards her expectantly. "W-we heard your gun shots from the road." She stammered, "We wanted to see if you were ok...if you wanted to come with us."

"That's what the other group said..." The shadow hissed viciously, its hands tightening around its weapons. "And then they killed my family...they took EVERYTHING." Alfred squeaked nervously in the shadows hold.

"We want to help you, what's your name?" She asked, staling as best as she could.

"What does it matter?" The shadow laughed its voice cracking.

"It matters..." Alfred couldn't see her face but he could tell she was holding back her fear as best as she could. "My name is Elizabeta...I'm traveling with my friends here and we're trying to get to the ocean. We weren't lying when we said we wanted to help you. It was Alfred's idea...the one you're holding. He...he told us if we could just save one life then this whole side trip would be worth it." The shadow was obviously confused, his hand began shaking around the gun. "What's your name?" she insisted placing her weapon on the ground in front of her in a display of peace and sliding it towards the shadow despite Ludwig's strangled grunt of objection.

The shadow hesitated as the frying pan slid towards him the metal scraping against the wooden floors, his face turned away from Alfred and focused on Elizabeta. Shooting another look down at Alfred he grunted something in language that Alfred was unfamiliar with and shoved the American away, bending down to lift the pan from the ground.

Walking forward towards Elizabeta he paused when he reached her, extending the pan back to her with a grunt that told her she should take it. Nodding, Elizabeta accepted the offering.

"Tino." He snapped gruffly reaching up and turning on one of the dangling lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Immediately the room was washed full of light, and their attacker was revealed. "My name is Tino." Tino it turned out, was a relatively short man with white-blonde hair and dim purple eyes that were ringed with bags. He was wearing a light blue uniform, every inch of his waist and back coated with blades and guns. He looked every part of a survivor. Swallowing nervously, Elizabeta extended her hand for him to shake.

Grudgingly he accepted.

"It's nice to meet you." Elizabeta smiled kindly.

"Uh huh..." Tino muttered nervously, eyeing the men behind Elizabeta with a cautious gaze. "You too..."

~X~

**Read and Review…please? For the children! **


	9. Prefer To Suffer Alone

**WARNING! Not For those of weak constitution! Blood and gore! You have been warned!**

He knew that he should have stayed in the damn Humvee with Arthur and the others.

Staring at the crimson drops staining his hand Iain swore silently and shot a look down at the wounds oozing profusely, trailing angry burgundy rivers down his chest and stomach.

The gashes, that had been sealed only two hours prior by scabs and stitches, were bleeding anew once again, leaving Iain feeling feverish and nauseous. He could tell just by the feel of certain sections, that certain areas of the wounds were deep enough to damage muscles, maybe even touch bone. He knew he might be developing an infection soon, if he wasn't properly cared for.

Pulling his jacket further around his increasingly weakening form, he inched a bit further away from where the group was discussing their next move on the comfy looking couches of the Finn's living room.

The rest of the group had joined them at that point, having been summoned in by Ludwig after Tino had cleared out the last zombies attempting to ravage the small defended humvee. He had stayed away from them with a irritated scowl, hoping they would mistake the agony in his strained voice as him being indignant over getting beat up by the Finn. He had moved off to the corner shortly after to assess him injuries, but also to insure that Arthur and none of the others had the slightest hint that he was injured.

Though he was more wrapped up in his own pain, he had actually been listening dully to the conversation for about ten minutes, and had come to the conclusion that if they stuck with the plan that involved them staying a few days in the "Café Sweden" then he had plenty of time to clean himself up and recover. On the other hand, Alfred kept insisting they kept moving, a plan that Iain soon came to dread. He knew very well that if he tried to do any manner of traveling in the next few hours, he might become overly familiar with the hardwood floors perhaps even have some sort of premature reunion with his mother and siblings.

"So we're staying at least the night then?" Iain felt his head jerk up as Alfred's voice managed to crack through his musings.

"I think it's for the best. This house is secure and has water and electricity still…we need time to recover, maybe get some genuine rest." Elizabeta's tired voice followed soon after. Iain smiled to himself happily, now was his chance to slip away.

He just had to be subtle. There was no need to cause any further distress amongst the group.

"Where's your shitter?" Ah, well it was close enough to subtle. The group looked up at him in confusion, their eyebrows all raised in quiet irritation towards where he was standing by the staircase lazily, his coat held nonchalantly over his steadily oozing chest. Mentally he hoped he wasn't leaking onto the floor below him.

"Can it wait? We're trying to have a discussion here." Ludwig scolded harshly. Iain could almost feel his blood boil as he scowled back at the youngster, wishing he had the strength to give the boy a thrashing that he wouldn't soon forget.

"If it could wait do you think ah'd be bugging ye, yer majesty?" Iain's snarled response was enough to raise the blonde's hackles if nothing else, and gave Iain's pain muddled mind mild satisfaction. "Where's yer shitter?" He repeated a bit more harshly, hoping his scowl would be enough to draw an answer from the aggravated looking Finn.

"Upstairs, last door on the right. Light a candle when you're done." Tino sighed in irritation ignoring the rude gesture that Iain shot back at him. "Charming." He muttered sarcastically the moment Iain began to trot up the stairs.

"You'll get used to him, honestly; he's not _completely_ dreadful once you get to know him." Arthur attempted with a small smile, receiving disbelieving looks from a majority of the group.

Iain waited until he was well out of sight before he allowed himself to stagger. Lurching over the last few stairs he swore as the ground heaved under his feet and he nearly lost his footing. Momentarily the world held no sound but that of an insistent ringing in his ear drums. Hesitating he gasped for air, his hand flying to his chest in an attempt to slow the bleeding.

That stupid Finn…it was _his_ fault that his wounds reopened. If _he_ hadn't kicked him where he did then he might actually be in a decent condition. He had only known the man for three hours and he was already on his list of people he needed to punch in the jaw when their flight for survival was over.

After a few wheezed breaths Iain straightened as well as he could, using the wall as a support as he eased his way at a snail's pace down the hall. Heaven forbid someone followed him up the stairs, they would spot him in a moment and soon the whole group would be hovering over him like he was dying, like he was a child who needed the tender care of their mother. Spitting he snorted, he never needed anyone's help and he certainly didn't need it now.

He found the bathroom fairly easily, but found opening the door to be rather difficult when his blood slicked hands couldn't find traction on the smooth surface of the handle. Groaning in frustration he shoved up against the door and finally managed to get the blasted thing to open, literally falling into the black abyss of the room.

Lying on the stone floor he clenched his eyes closed a moment as his world swam and for a second he was sure he would be sick. Reaching up blindly he found the light switch and flicked on the small light source with trembling fingers.

_I must look like a God damn weakling._ He scolded himself as he scrambled to his knees and, after locking the door behind him, trained his blurry vision onto the medicine cabinet. _He must have some sort of med kit. _Tearing through the cabinet without much care for what a mess he might be making he found what he was looking for after tossing open the cabinet under the sink.

The small red package was sealed with a zipper, something he had more problems opening then the door. Hissing and growling he finally reached the blessed insides of the package and pulled from it a packaged needle and a spool of sterilized thread.

He supposed he should at least try and clean up the work space, so tossing a washcloth into the bathtub he cranked to water up as high as he could and as hot as it would go.

_It must be nice, having your own water supply. He_ mused as the water heated up until it nearly scalded him when he put his hand under the rushing torrent. Pulling out the washcloth he brought it to his chest, and nearly lost consciousness.

The agony that shot up from his chest was enough to send him reeling. Swearing up a storm he lurched forward, only barely managing to catch onto the side of the sink with a groan. This was going to be harder than he thought as retched dryly between his knees sweat pouring from his face and mixing with the blood smearing itself across the floor.

Staring up at his hands still clutching onto the sink he sucked in deep breaths as he watched watered down blood stream down the sides of the sink and collect in the basin. He was mesmerized for a moment, stuck in a sort of disbelief that it could possibly be his blood that was creating such patterns on the white surface.

_Focus ye stupid cunt! Yer gonna bleed out if yer nae careful!_

Jerking back into the world Iain shook his head to clear it. He was really in a bad spot if he could be distracted so easily.

Wiping his lips with a mutter he sat up only after the room stopped spinning; drawing up the washcloth again he braced himself for the pain, satisfied when this time there was no wave of nausea to go along with the mind numbing agony that welled up over his figure.

Unfortunately, once he had finished his dabbing and gentle scrubbing, he still had to sanitize.

A bottle of alcohol rested on the counter, mocking him with the knowledge of the pain he was about to endure. Grimacing, Iain popped a few of Tino's painkillers into his mouth, chewing them slowly. He was going to hate himself in the morning.

Without pausing to think about the consequences Iain ripped the bottle from the counter and splashed a good deal of the burning liquid down his front.

The agony was like nothing he had ever endured, yelping in pain he could barely hold back a tortured roar from exiting his lips.

This time the world did disappear.

He woke up on the floor. Dazed and writhing he gasped and sputtered as his hand clutched at side of the bathtub in a vain attempt to sit up. Had he seriously just fainted?

Straightening with a grunt he was dully horrified to spot the puddle of blood soaking the ground where he had been laying. Shaking his head he allowed his hand to reach for the needle now lying on the ground beside him.

This might be harder than he thought.

~X~

"He's making an awful lot of noise up there…" Gilbert's muttered opinion was enough to draw the group out of their argument. "He's got the water running…is he taking a shower or something?" Arthur seemed a bit confused.

"I don't…I mean he might be. How long has he been up there?" He demanded shooting a look at his watch. "About an hour…should one of us go up there and check on him?" The group shrugged, none seeming too terribly worried about the angry redhead. Sighing he went to stand up, only to pause when Elizabeta grabbed his arm and shook her head.

"You stay down here Arthur…I'll go and check up on him." She suggested with a smile. "You need to relax a bit, let me worry about it." Reluctantly he nodded, allowing Alfred to pull him back into a seated position on one of the Finn's hand carved couches.

Smiling encouragingly back at Arthur, Elizabeta shook her head when he went to argue. Turning before he could change his mind she rushed up the stairs.

Elizabeta had to admit she had been worried about the Scotsman when he disappeared upstairs. During the fight with Tino, she had crashed into Iain and when she stood up again to calm down the Finn, her hands had blood smeared on the palms. At first she thought it was her blood, but she hadn't found any wounds to support that theory.

_If he was wounded, why wouldn't he say anything_? She wondered quietly as she slowly marched up the stairs.

_Because he's stubborn as an ass…_

Elizabeta sighed in realization, knowing that if the Scotsman was wounded in any way, he would hide it until it was too late for anyone else to do anything about it. Just like most of the men she had grown up with.

Her foot hit a slick patch on the floor and she lurched forward just as she reached the landing. Yelping, she nearly crashed into the wall as she skidded to her knees.

"Eliza? Are you ok?" Gilbert's concerned voice called from down the stairs.

"Uh…" She hesitated, feeling the hairs rising on her arm as she lifted her hand to her face and she realized what she had just fallen in.

"Blood?" She squeaked, stumbling back away from the puddle in horror. "I…I'm fine! I just slipped." She called back down the stairs, wiping her hands on her pants frantically.

"Ok! Be more careful." The albino scolded, before his voice continued its conversation with the excited sounding Feliciano. Nodding as if the man could see her, Elizabeta stood shakily and wrapped her knuckle against the door of the bathroom.

"Iain?" She hissed her voice frantic as she got a better view of all the blood streaked across the door. He was more badly injured than she thought, and he was losing a lot of blood. "Open the door." She spat, knocking a bit louder.

"G'…'way." Iain's voice was nothing more than a rasp, barely audible behind the door.

"Open the door Iain, or I'm going to kick it down." She didn't raise her voice to high, afraid that if she got too loud the rest of the group would hear her.

"Ah w-wanna…b' 'lone." He growled back, sounding weaker than she had ever heard him. Groaning she began to search for a way to enter the room. Grinning in victory she spotted a key hanging above the door, for what use she would probably never understand.

"I'm coming in." She called quietly.

"Nah ya ain't." Iain groaned in protest, though it was obvious from his tone he could do nothing to stop her. Elizabeta narrowed his eyes at his weak protests and without further ado…tossed open the door.

**Review and I'll make sure Iain get's his stitches.**


	10. Failed Romance

Elizabeta had expected many things when she opened the bathroom. She had expected Iain to be scowling furiously from the shower as he scrambled to find a towel, or maybe for him to be bandaging some scrape or another. What she was not expecting, was exactly what she found behind the once sealed door.

She wished she could say that she had never seen more blood, but of course the past few days would have made her a liar. Still, the staggering amount of blood splattered across the bathroom was enough to leave her reeling.

Blood streaked across the marble counters of the sink, trailed down the sides of the bathtub, and formed pools on the tiles. The sight was something straight out of a horror movie, and it left her feeling sick to her stomach.

Of course, sitting amongst the blood and gore, was Iain.

"Don' ye dare scream." He rasped, his crimson stained hands holding the end of an equally soaked needle and thread, the end of the thread already embedded in the Scotsman's chest. She was too stunned to move, he was in too much pain to care. Monotonously, he continued his stitches with a relatively steady hand completely taking no notice of her presence.

"I…Let me." Shaking herself back into reality, Elizabeta leaped forward and sat on the ground next to Iain, attempting not to sit in any of the blood pooled up on the floor.

He scowled at her as she sat, but grudgingly handed her the needle, allowing her to take over the last of his stitches.

"Why didn't you tell one of us?" She snapped after a moment. He chose not to answer; instead he stared fixatedly at the wall. She tried not to notice the thread as it wound its way through his skin, leaving little beads of red each time it broke the surface. She could see the pain in his eyes, but he was doing well hiding it, something she was finding he was extraordinarily good at.

"Don' look so mad at me; I would have told ya if ah had known ye wouldn't go screaming to Iggy and the rest." The sudden sound of his voice made her jump, luckily she had paused her stitching and she caused no damage to the man in the motion. He chuckled at the fury that appeared in her eyes in response to his amusement, his eyes sparkling when she glared.

Shaking her head irately she snipped the last of the thread and sat back to examine her handiwork. The stitches were even, clean. There would be scarring but, with the extent of his injuries, he was lucky to get away with just that.

"You're lucky you managed to get these sealed up…if you had waited any longer you might not have survived." She scolded harshly, keeping her voice low though at the moment she was sure she should cry out for the others just to spite the infuriating Scotsman. "You can't let yourself get like this Iain, if you were out in the humvee still, or if we were on the road…Iain we couldn't have saved you if you got some sort of infection."

"Ah can take care of myself." Iain growled, suddenly looking as angry as she did. Obviously by insinuating he might not be able to care for himself, she was striking some sort of nerve.

Iain chose to ignore the girl for the second time, his head pounding he tried to straighten using the bathtub as support, only to stagger back down again with a _thump_.

Groaning in pain he leaned back up against the bathtub and sealed his eyes, hissing out swearwords through his teeth.

"Idiot." Elizabeta sighed, grabbing the washcloth he had thrown into the tub and wringing it off. "If you really don't want them to know then at least clean yourself up, you look terrible." He snorted in vague amusement, rolling his eyes as she leaned in to dab his wounds clean.

Elizabeta noticed out of the corner of her eye that Iain watched her movements carefully, his emerald eyes glazed slightly, but still managing to focus on her without much effort.

"How did these happen?" She demanded, her hand gently brushing the skin of his chest. Sighing heavily Iain twitched at the contact, but did nothing to move away.

"The fresher ones…those are from the escape. Remember when that infected bastard landed on top o' me?" She nodded, pulling a roll of gauze from the med-pack and pulling it open with deft hands.

"And the others?" she demanded, guessing that the massive bruise on his chest could have come from no one else but Tino based on the shape and location. Iain paused a moment as he he lifted up his arms so she could begin to twine the white cloth around his torso. After a moment, he sighed heavily.

"My mum." He admitted gruffly, his gaze falling away from hers. "She got me pretty good the night she changed. I just didn't have the guts to defend myself…almost lost what guts I have because of it." He chuckled humorlessly. "I'll never hesitate like that again…if she had killed me…she could have…" he broke off, obviously not wanting to finish his statement.

"She could have hurt someone else?" Elizabeta's suggestion received a small nod from Iain, as reluctant as it was.

"S'pose she might 'ave." Iain muttered groggily, muttering something about needing to stop being emotional.

"You know, it's ok to show some concern once and awhile." She admitted with a small encouraging smile as she finished her wrapping and patted him gently on the cheek. He didn't look too terribly convinced of that."All better, see?" He shrugged, looking up at her with what could almost be a grateful smile. She grinned back, and blinked in confusion when he reached out and moved a lock of her hair out of her face.

"Thank you." He muttered, sounding genuinely grateful much to her surprise. Laughing slightly Elizabeta went to stand with a sigh only to pause when Iain grabbed her hand and pulled her backwards towards him.

She landed basically on his lap, squeaking in shock she looked up at him with wide eyes. He looked as if he was trying to say something, his eyes holding some look she could not place. Flustered she raised an eyebrow slightly, receiving another one of his smoldering stares in return.

"Elizabeta I…" He started, leaning in slightly. His face was only inches away from his when he hesitated; his breath dusting against her utterly dumbfounded face. His lips nearly swept against hers before he began to stagger.

Disconcerted she started to ask him what was wrong, what he was doing. Watching in confusion as his eyes rolled back in his head, and yelping as he slumped forward unconscious against her shoulder.

Of course his weight upset her balance, and Elizabeta found herself staggering backwards a bit before she could remove Iain from her person. Muttering to herself in irritation she sat up, supporting him with one hand and holding herself up with the other.

"Shit…I was expecting that." She sighed, leaning him backwards against the bathtub again. Pressing her fingers against his jugular she was met with a steady beat. He was just sleeping off the injury. Standing with a sigh she began to tidy up the space so that if one of the others came up the stairs Iain's secret wouldn't be revealed. She knew he was an idiot for hiding it, but if that was what he wanted then she would let him have his way. She would just need a bit of help carrying the Scotsman back to one of the rooms.

Once she was sure the room was spotless, and that her shirt and hands were as clear of blood as she could get them, she trotted down the stairs in search of help.

She came to a halt at the bottom of the steps, her hand gently grasping the ornate hand carved railing as she peered into the room where the rest of the group was gathered.

Feliciano was lazing on one of the couches, his head on Ludwig's lap, and was energetically telling a story from his childhood with a massive smile on his face. Most of the group was laughing along with him as they played cards with a deck that Tino must have provided. Tino and Alfred were taking shots from a bottle of vodka, something she wouldn't usually condone, but wasn't going to protest. Even Arthur seemed to be momentarily stress free, laughing triumphantly when he beat Alfred's hand. Everyone was behaving more relaxed then she had ever seen them, and in turn she felt more tranquil.

She knew that Iain needed to be moved, but she found herself hesitating a moment, enjoying the scene with a small satisfied smile on her face. It was relieving to know that her companions could still have a good time despite the situation they were stuck in.

"Do you want to join in?" Elizabeta jumped about a foot in the air when Gilbert's voice appeared right beside her. Looking up in shock she scowled in irritation at the man as he took a sip from the beer he had just plundered from the kitchen. "Or would you rather sit here and just watch?" She shook her head, remembering the reason she had come down in the first place.

"Iain needs some help…he um…well come on." She sighed, turning away from the group and snagging Gilbert's hand so she could tow him up the stairs.

"Wait…what happened?" Gilbert demanded, his eyes widening slightly at the idea of the Scotsman needing any sort of assistance.

"He had some wounds that he got awhile ago, they were stitched up but Tino kicked them open again. He was up here trying to fix them on his own like the stubborn oaf he is…" Gilbert nodded knowingly, urging her to continue as she paused by the door to the bathroom. "I helped him get patched up, but he passed out, and unfortunately I am not capable of carrying him out of the bathroom on my own."

"Why didn't you tell the others? Come get help?" Gilbert demanded raising his eyebrow questioningly, crossing his arms as her hand hovered over the door.

"He doesn't want Arthur to worry, well he didn't say that specifically, but I'm pretty damn sure that's his reasoning. Are you going to help me move him or should I try to do it on my own?" She demanded angrily staring defiantly up at the albino. Gilbert chuckled, and ran a hand through his silvery hair staring up at the ceiling as if truly contemplating letting her struggle to move the Scotsman by herself.

"Sure Liza, I'll help you move the Scot and I won't tell the others because I feel like being awesomely charitable tonight, but next time you come get me first if he's trying to do surgery on himself. That way I can be there if something goes wrong." She blinked in confusion, giving him a questioning look that he quickly shrugged off. "Just promise me ok?" She nodded, still baffled.

_What is it with these boys tonight? _She wondered as she popped open the door and Gilbert strode in to lift up the Scotsman. He hesitated in front of the man, obviously scanning him over for anything that might resemble a bite and checking that he was still breathing. She knew there were no bites, but felt no need to tell Gilbert. He would still check even if she insisted, that was the way they had to be now, never trusting each other to the full extent. It was a sad, but inevitable truth.

"How he managed to hide these are beyond me…" Gilbert's mutter was barely audible in the silence of the room. Shaking his head, he carefully hefted Iain's arm over his shoulder and lifted his deadweight into the air with limited amounts of effort. Striding past Elizabeta he grinned, his ruby eyes sparkling and making her smile back despite herself. "Coming Liza?" He demanded, blowing a lock of Iain's hair from out of his face in a comical fashion that made his nose wrinkle.

"Alright…do we just pick a room?" Elizabeta whispered as she followed after Gilbert in the hallway, smiling when the group's laughing voices rose up from the room below them.

"Any room but Tino's and his son's…" Gilbert grunted, pushing open a door and scanning inside. "Nope, this one is Tino's…" He muttered. "Ah…." He whispered sadly, shaking his head when she raised an eyebrow he shut the door and instead moved into a room further down the hall.

Curious, Elizabeta waited for Gilbert to disappear inside before she pushed open the door again. She instantly wished she hadn't as she felt a wave of sorrow well up inside her chest.

The room itself was practically empty of objects. All the furniture in the room had been removed save for a mattress and a small lamp. Spots where picture frames had once been stained the walls with the haunting memory of the life that had once been in the house.

What truly set her emotions off though, was the sight of four crosses, hand painted in different colors and designs that sat up against the wall next to Tino's mattress over picture frames filled with the faces of the dead. All that was left of his family.

How many people were like Tino now? How many people had lost everything they had to this crippling disease? Elizabeta herself had lost her family, her friends, everyone she cared for. Staring at the crosses she felt grief well up inside her in a wave, pulling at her heart stings until they screamed. Were they all alone now? She had lost everything, everyone she was close to.

She felt someone pulling her away from the door and turned, blinking tears from her eyes. Gilbert stared back at her sadly, his eyes knowing. Reaching forward he wiped a tear from her cheek and smiled sadly. He didn't say anything, just opened his arms and stared patiently down at her.

She made the choice to walk into them.

~X~

"So you'll come with us then…to the ocean? We could really use you out there Tino, and let's face it I don't think anyone in your family wanted you to spend the rest of your life here alone." Alfred sighed, swirling his drink inside his shot glass with a discerning eye.

Tino sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know Alfred…you all want to move out in a few days, and I understand that, but this is my home. I built it with my husband from the ground up, and I'm not sure if I want to leave it." Sighing Tino slumped further into his seat, his audience watching him curiously. "See up there? He did all of those birds in the molding by hand. It took him a month to finish those alone." Tino's eyes were filled with a reminiscent look as he stared up at the ceiling in adoration. "He even did the plumbing by himself…he wasn't very good at it and I had to call a plumber to finish the job, but it was all Berdwald's handiwork in the end." Alfred nodded knowingly, watching the Finn with empathy. Tino went on with his story after another drink. "We had a dog…just a tiny little thing. We had to dye him pink in the winter so we could see him in the snow." Chuckling Tino sighed and wiped his cheek. Alfred paused a moment, not sure how to respond. He had never had to convince someone to keep moving on before. Surprisingly enough, he didn't have to.

"This is truly a wonderful thing you've built, but Tino...answer me this: would you have wanted Berdwald to go on if it was him that survived?" Ludwig demanded, his eyes focused on Tino with understanding. "You have a choice to make. If you stay here you may live a long healthy life, but you'll be alone and I think that may be a fate worse than death." He stated harshly, "On the other hand if you go with us, you have a chance of dying that is most likely even greater than staying here, but at least you will have tried to live a life." The group stared at Ludwig in shock, they knew he was insensitive but…

Tino laughed.

Startled the group turned back to the Finn who was sipping at his vodka with a small smile on his face.

"You're right." He admitted, chuckling when the group's jaws fell. "Berdwald would be furious with me if he knew I was going to throw everything away. He would have gone on, and so will I. It's just like you said Ludwig… I'm going to live a life."

"That's good to hear." Ludwig grunted, ignoring the flustered looks most of his companions were sending him. "So you'll come with us?"

"I suppose it would be my best option right now." Tino shrugged, "I've got nothing left to lose."

"Then it's settled…welcome to the family Tino." Alfred beamed, extending his hand for Tino to shake. Hesitantly, Tino accepted the gesture.

"Family…well I like the sound of that." Tino laughed.

~X~


	11. In The Snow

**Warnings: Blood, Violence, Gore(fication), Cursing. **

Iain didn't wake until the sun was shining high over head, and that was only because some stupid ass cunt was pinching his nose shut. The pressure was irritating, but he could ignore it. Brushing the hand away with a grunt he rolled over, receiving an irritated groan in response.

The shuffle of feet on wood broke through Iain's semiconscious thoughts as the cunt made his way around to the other side of the bed and knelt down with a sigh. Iain growled a small warning and held his arm up so it blocked out the remaining light hoping the person would get the hint and leave.

Instead the idiot reached forward and pinched his nose _and _lips shut with rough fingers, completely shutting off his airways.

Oh there would be blood.

Iain shot his fist forward with a roar of anger and popped whoever dared disturb the first good night sleep he had gotten in weeks in the nose.

Alfred's yell of agony was familiar even through the sudden ringing that filled Iain's ears as what little blood he had left in his body rushed directly to his skull sending him reeling back onto the pillows. Swearing even more loudly than the American boy, Iain groaned in pain and threw his arm over his eyes to block out the sun now burrowing holes into his skull.

"What in God's name made you think that was a good idea, you slack jawed half-brained horse-humping Yankee?" Iain hissed through his teeth, looking up at Alfred from under his arm with a livid glare. "Damn it…between you and Iggy waking me up like freaking retards I'm going to end up killing one of you accidently!" He snarled messaging his temples.

"Well I figured you might want to come with us…we're packing up to leave." Alfred grumbled, testing his now tender nose with his forefinger, his eyes watering fiercely. "Tino spotted a group of those infected bastards down the road from here this morning. They won't be here for about a day but we don't want to stay much longer anyway." Iain rolled his eyes and gingerly sat up, making sure to keep his back to Alfred in hopes he wouldn't notice the pain etched into his face as he adjusted the collar of a shirt he didn't remember putting on the night before.

"Fine, but don't you think there's nicer ways to wake a guy?" He demanded harshly, his eyes narrowing in on Alfred's with a face that showed no hint of amusement. "Especially after all the shit we've been through this week?"

"Arthur tried waking you up earlier. You were so far gone you didn't even wake up when he started shouting, so he decided to let you rest. Now we don't have time to mess around so I came to wake you up myself." Alfred explained nonchalantly, his nose forgotten as he examined the Scotsman. "He's worried about you, you've been acting weird…well weird for you, and it's a bit concerning." Alfred explained, reaching forward to touch the man's shoulder and sighing when the man pulled away.

"Ah'm fine, just tired." Iain relented, shrugging his shoulders and stalking from the room. "Are ye coming or not Yank?" He growled leaving the door opens so that Alfred could follow him. "And what do we got to eat in this dump?" Raising an eyebrow, Alfred chuckled and shook his head before following after the grumbling Scotsman. "Guid morning." Iain snapped as he entered the store front where the rest of the group was packing supplies furiously. Plucking a sandwich from out of Gilbert's hand and taking a hefty bite while the man stared down at where his breakfast had been, he sat with a thud on Tino's couch.

"Glad you could join us finally." Arthur snapped, tossing some food into one of the suitcases Tino had provided.

"Ah was sleeping." Iain explained avoiding his brother's gaze as he munched on his pilfered sandwich. "What's the plan?" Arthur seemed a bit reluctant to respond, but Iain shot him a look that demanded answers.

"We're heading towards Oregon, Tino agrees that it'd be the least populated route and if we plan it right we can take back roads to get around larger cities...Alfred…you twit you dropped the keys in the suitcase!" He pointed out; tossing Alfred the keys he was desperately searching for. Alfred grinned back at him gratefully and stuffed them into his pocket with a blush of embarrassment.

"How are you feeling?" Elizabeta whispered to Iain as she handed him a second peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He shrugged slightly, taking a bite hungrily from the sandwich before answering.

"As good as I could hope." He admitted, "And about…you know…" He muttered, avoiding her curious glance.

"Falling on me? Nah, you were barely sitting up to begin with." She laughed, taking his confused look as embarrassment. Blinking, Iain scratched his head.

She hadn't even noticed he tried to kiss her?

"Um…yeah…falling." He scratched the back of his head with a confused blink. "But Eliza I…"

"Let's _GO_ guys! We don't have all day!" Gilbert called from the door to the outside, his gun slung over his shoulder and his free arm leaning against the door. Elizabeta chuckled and stood, moving over to Gilbert and leaving Iain alone on the couch. Startled, Iain watched with rising fury as Gilbert slung his arm around Eliza's waist, ignoring the punch she planted on his shoulder. "Coming Iain?" Gilbert demanded.

"Aye." Iain snarled out, his knuckles white at his sides.

"Let's go! We're leaving!" Alfred called from outside, sounding irritated.

"Coming!" Iain and Gilbert cried in unison their eyes locking challengingly: the game was on.

**~X~**

"That…That is a big ass wall." Alfred felt his jaw fall open as he spoke, his neck craning back to take in the spectacle before him.

After only three hours of driving, the group was faced with their first obstacle: Alfred's awe was justified. Standing before them was a wall of monstrous proportions, but had obviously been thrown up in a hurry. As long as the eye could see and as tall as two men, the wall, built from the beds of eighteen wheelers and long rows of chain link fences, towered over the humvee ominously.

"This is Helena…or it was." Tino muttered nudging a sign that had once read 'Welcome To Helena!' in bright colors, but now lay in the snow a few feet away from its original location as the group congregated in front of the van. Staring up at the wall from under his gloved hand he frowned. "Too quiet…we should go around." He decided with a gruff nod, receiving startled looks from the rest of his group. Ignoring the looks he turned on his heel and headed back to the Humvee, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Woah woah woah, what?" Alfred snapped stepping in front of Tino and blocking his path to the vehicle with a scowl. Tino, not amused by the action in the slightest, sighed and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you mean what? We should go around." He snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Why? We should at least check it out! I mean look at it! Those walls are freaking huge! If there's people in there…there's no way the zombies got in!" Alfred put in angrily. Tino snorted as if the notion was amusing to him and patted Alfred on the head.

"That's cute, you're still optimistic about how this whole infection works." Alfred twitched at the Finn's tone, brushing aside the hand furiously and using his superior height to scowl at down at him.

"Maybe I still have hope! I don't need to see them to know there are people in that fortress." Alfred's snappy retort received no further reaction from Tino; instead the Finn stepped to the right, brushed past Alfred without a word, and leaned against the Humvee with a grunt.

"Go ahead." Tino relented, brushing snow off his sleeve. "Go search the place, but just so you know: Helena was one of the worst hit areas in the state. More likely than not there's not a single living soul in that hell hole, but, if you want to risk your own neck all I have to say is: have at it. It's your funeral not mine."

"I'll go with you Alfred, I have a feeling you're right, if there's going to be people left somewhere it's probably going to be behind a wall just like this one." Matthew's affirmative voice was followed closely by a snort from Tino who simply climbed into the Humvee and threw the door shut. "He's just being over cautious, don't mind him." Matthew assured Alfred, crossing his arms in front of his chest and ignoring the stammered protests coming from Francis.

"Thanks Mattie." Alfred sighed, shooting a smile at the boy as Mathew adjusted the weapons strapped to his back in preparation. "Anyone else want to come? I won't force anyone." He put in, silently praying that the group would consider accompanying him.

"Of course I'll go…" Arthur began, standing and starting to make his way towards Alfred.

"Like hell you will!" The group jumped as Iain, who they previously believed to be napping against the side of the Humvee, shot his hand out and pulled Arthur backwards. "If I'm staying here, so are you. No offense Alfred, I like your plan, but I'd rather sit this one out."

"Then why on earth can't I go?" Arthur protested loudly, his emerald eyes flashing in confusion as Iain forced him to remain standing beside him.

"Cause I can't." Iain growled his hands a desperate white against Arthur's coat sleeve. "And don't even think about arguing cause you know I'd win in a wrestling match if it comes down to it, laddie." Turning to argue despite the fact, Arthur met his brother's gaze and hesitated. The pain in Iain's face was enough to leave him stunned.

"Of…of course." Arthur squeaked out, taking no notice of Alfred's disappointed look as he sat next to his brother worriedly. Iain let a relieved sigh rush out from his lips silently as he too slumped back against the Humvee.

Alfred felt his plans faltering before him as he watched Arthur turn his face away.

"So just Matthew and me huh?" He muttered, still hoping that Arthur would change his mind.

"Nonsense! The awesome me shall be accompanying you!" Gilbert cheered slapping Alfred on the back. "No bruder, I won't 'reconsider my foolish actions.'" Gilbert rolled his eyes, waving off his little brother.

"Then I'll come too." Elizabeta announced, coming to stand next to Alfred boldly.  
>"Alright then." Alfred smiled at his group. "So the four of us?"<p>

"Ja, just the four of us awesome adventurers." Gilbert grinned, wincing as Elizabeta smacked him on the shoulder hissing that he should be less annoying. Alfred nodded, and avoiding the apologetic gazes of his remaining companions, began to size up the wall.

"Ludwig…seeing as you're not coming, do you mind giving me a boost up?" Alfred demanded, shooting a look over his shoulder to where the blonde German was standing. Ludwig raised an eyebrow; not looking terribly convinced that he should help.

"Come on bruder! Help the little guy out!" Gilbert cried, crossing his arms over his chest angrily. "The faster the better! The sooner we're back the sooner we can be on our way! You'd like that wouldn't you? To be on the road again? Come on…ooof…" Ludwig had snatched his brother around the collar, dragging him towards one of the cargo containers he extended his hands for the albino to use as a boost up. "Hey…I said the little guy! I meant Alfred!"

"Well you're shorter than me too, so hurry up before I change my mind." Ludwig muttered. Scoffing at the short comment, Gilbert accepted the offered help and with a grunt leapt up towards the roof of the cargo container. Once situated he began to scan over the ground on the other side, once convinced it was zombie free he turned back towards Alfred and saluted.

"All clear captain." He called down, waving for them to follow after him. Alfred nodded in understanding before turning to where Ludwig was standing in wait for the next person to scramble up with Gilbert.

"Ok Ludwig, wait here for a day: just until the sun goes up tomorrow morning ok? If we don't show then you go ahead and start onward again." He made sure that his orders were whispered so he didn't worry any of the others.

"Then you do realize that this is dangerous, possibly suicidal?" Ludwig muttered as Alfred fitted his foot into the cusp of his hands.

"Yeah, of course, but isn't every action we take nowadays possibly suicidal?" Alfred admitted with a small grin. Ludwig smiled back slightly, just the smallest twitch of the lips, but Alfred saw it and instantly felt that perhaps he was making headway with the man.

"I suppose it is." Ludwig admitted. "But you had better bring my brother back to me, or I'll be wearing your skin as a coat." He hissed into Alfred's ear right before launching him into the air for Gilbert to snag onto his coat and heave him onto the container. Alfred nodded back at the man as the remaining to member's followed despite Francis' increasingly loud protests and threats which Matthew ignored blatantly.

"Let's go." He muttered to Alfred, rubbing his temples as Francis shrilled after him.

~X~

The streets were abandoned.

Litter scattered across the small city streets with every gust of wind, catching in patches of snow that rose higher than the rest. Picking through the snow just a few feet from them, a raven caught onto something that looked like cloth and tugged. Cawing in anger when it failed to come free, the bird took flight, landing with a ruffle of feathers to stare curiously down at the quartet.

"Creepy…" Gilbert muttered, waving at the bird angrily with his gun. "Shoo! Shooooo! Verdammt bird!" Matthew chuckled nervously as the bird cawed indignantly down at Gilbert and turned away with a flick of coal colored tail feathers.

"Jesus….it smells." Elizabeta whispered, lifting her hand to her nose after a breeze brushed past her face.

"I don't smell anything." Alfred pointed out, sniffing obviously. "You sure it's not your imagination?" Elizabeta wrinkled her nose, but said nothing. "Come on, just a bit further in. There must be some people here." The group nodded slowly, their eyes more nervous than ever before as they searched frantically for any sort of life besides the creepy bird.

"Hello? Is anyone here!" Gilbert called, wincing when Matthew smacked him on the back of the head. "What the hell was that for?" He cursed, smacking Matthew on the hand.

"Don't make so much noise!" Matthew sputtered glancing nervously around the square in search of whatever was making him so nervous.

"Why not? There's no one here!" Gilbert spat, "We should just go back Alfred…this is ridiculous." He sighed, shooting a look back at the wall only about half a mile from where they stood. Alfred hesitated, scanning around the small city in search of the life he was still praying was there.

Up ahead, just a few blocks away, was a hotel.

"Let's check there first. If there's nothing there, then we can go ahead and go." Alfred relented.

"Promise? Because the sun is going down and damn it…I don't want to be out here when the sun goes down." Matthew mumbled, shifting nervously.

Alfred didn't bother answering, turning back to the hotel he continued to trek forward leaving heavy prints in the soft snow.

The group followed silently, keeping at his elbow as they scanned down the alleyways, across the street, in the broken store fronts.

Gilbert made sure to keep his group in his line of sight at all times, for the same reason as the rest of the group he was feeling nervous. The wind blowing through broken windows created an eerie whistle throughout the entire town. There was also the bird, pecking at the hard packed snow around them and cawing after them like the annoying buzzard it was.

Even the ground seemed wrong; it felt more uneven than a sidewalk or road should. Perhaps it was his imagination, but even the consistency seemed wrong. It felt…

Gilbert's foot struck something sticking out from the snow. Yelping he sprawled forward, extending his hands to catch himself. Landing with a deafening crash against a row of garbage cans he stared up at the sky in shock as the rest of his group scrambled to his side in concern.

"Gilbert!" Elizabeta squeaked, scanning him over frantically. "Oh God your glove!" She pointed out, snatching his hand as he reached out to wipe of his forehead. "Gilbert you sliced open your hand you idiot!" Gilbert rolled his eyes as she pulled off the glove, displaying the jagged cut now dripping into the snow below. "Honestly between you and Iain…"

"What's wrong with Iain?" Alfred demanded, moving forward to pull Gilbert forward.

"Nothing! Nothing is wrong with…Waarrrrgh!" Elizabeta's scream was deafening. "H….HAND!" She shrieked as she fell backwards, scrabbling at a fist clenched firmly around her ankle. "GET IT OFF!" She roared, beating at the hand that Gilbert had tripped over with her gun.

"What the hell?" Gilbert cried, slicing at the hand until Elizabeta could scramble free. Only to yell in terror as another hand burst free from the snow at his feet. "There's infected here Alfred…we need to…!"

"Uh….Uh….Guys?" Mathew cried. "We should run! Now!" Alfred had little time to react as Matthew wheeled him around and pointed at the road they had just trekked down.

The infected were crawling from the ground itself. The mounds of earth Gilbert had been cautiously avoiding were in fact the bodies of the undead frozen under the ice.

"They were under ground. They were sleeping…now they're awake…Gilbert your blood is waking them up!" Alfred gasped, stumbling away while shoving Matthew towards the hotel. "Run…RUN! Get out of the streets!"

"Come on Eliza!" Gilbert roared, hefting her to her feet and smashing an infected woman in the head with the butt of his rifle. "Guns Alfred, this is not the time to be stealthy!" He snarled when Alfred began smashing with his katana at an infected as it peeled itself from the ground.

"Gilbert look out!" Elizabeta shrieked as an infected stumbled clear from a building and snagged onto Gilbert from behind. Swearing Gilbert rolled, crushing the infected into the ground and moving clear from its gnashing jaws. Gilbert blasted the thing in the face before turning on another two infected who crawled towards him in the snow. Already he and Elizabeta were getting separated from Matthew and Alfred further and further by the infected aiming themselves towards the injured Gilbert.

"Too many…this is all my fault!" Alfred cried, his ears roaring in terror as Gilbert frantically beat back at the infected grabbing at his legs and arms. "Matthew we gotta get in there and help…."

"No time. Run." Matthew hissed, pulling Alfred backwards.

"What?" Alfred demanded in shock. Matthew stared down at him with sad eyes that spelled out his plan. "No…Matthew we can't…"

"What else would you have us do?" Matthew hissed, "We'll all die if we just…."  
>"Listen to him Alfred!" Gilbert called over the panic as he and Eliza scrambled down the road as best as they could, moving towards the gates. "They're after me right now, but they'll be after…GET OFF! GO ALFRED!"<p>

"It's alright Alfred! We knew what we were getting into! Go!" Elizabeta called as she stood back to back with Gilbert. Alfred hesitated, feeling numb.

"Go!" Elizabeta called following Gilbert through the glass of one of the many stores, and disappearing behind a wall of undead corpses.

Alfred had no choice, as the infected turned towards him hungrily, he ran.

**Hello again after so long my dear readers! Sorry for the delay, very busy you see. I didn't forget you though! Honestly! Now that summer is in full swing there shall be updates like you have never seen before :D **

**Anyway are there any artists out there? I've been interested in seeing if there was anyone who'd want to draw some scenes from here just for kicks and giggles. That and honestly there isn't enough zombies in the world. **

**Stay tuned till next time, Review and the new character shall be revealed faster! And…You will get the best tasting cookie you have ever tasted before. **


	12. Cornered

**Warnings: **

**Blood, gore, dirty things. *insert twisting of French mustache here***

Matthew tugged on Alfred's arm, dragging him away from the enormous horde behind them.

"KEEP RUNNING!" He screamed in panic, sheer terror rising in his voice as he and Alfred raced through the town. It seemed now, with no sight of Gilbert and Elizabeta that they were on their own. The pathway seemed devastatingly clogged with the infected, but still the two pushed forward and attempted to find anywhere safe to hide even for a moment.

"Mattie, we should stop." Alfred whispered, blood splattering his face and jacket. "This is pointless damn it!" He wiped a gloved hand over his forehead to rid himself of the gathering sweat and blood. His blond hair draped over his face wetly and he was panting laboriously, even his desperate grip on Kiku's katana seemed weak. Matthew understood why, they had been running for nearly ten minutes at a dead sprint and both were growing tired fast. Still, the hotel up ahead seemed magically no closer than it had when they had first started, and as the sun died, so did their hope.

Overwhelmed, Alfred dug his heels into the ground, stopping both of the two men's movement. Matthew looked back at him in shock, panting heavily as he dispatched one of the infected looming closer to Alfred.

"We need to stop Matthew…" Alfred's whispered plea was barely audible over the terrible shrieks and hungry screams of the infected. Rage flared up in Matthew as he grabbed onto Alfred's shoulders and began to shake him violently.

"Stop? Damn it Alfred! We don't stop! We never stop! You understand me?" Matthew glared at his companion, his purple eyes narrowing at the tall blond as Alfred's sky blue eyes stared dully back at him, "Keep going." He ordered, Alfred sighed, slumping onto the ground while the half frozen infected staggered to catch up to their illusive prey.

"Keep going? Keep going for what?" He demanded, not bothering to look up at Matthew.

"For everyone back at the Humvee! Alfred, they need their leader! They need you! Don't you understand? You better be ready to shut up and stand up! Keep running, we don't have time for this!" Matthew cried, shooting a look towards the slowly encroaching infected.

"You didn't just get two of your own killed! It's my damn fault that we're even here! Gilbert and Elizabeta are DEAD because of me, you heartless bastard, can't you understand that?" Alfred roared despondently. Groaning Matthew, without hesitation, lifted his hand and dashed it across Alfred's face.

"Listen to me!" Matthew grabbed Alfred's chin, shaking his face painfully. "Listen to me damn it!" He roared. "We knew what we were doing when we followed you, stupid! Gilbert and Elizabeta both cared enough about you to take a risk! They did it so you wouldn't be here alone if things went wrong! We care about you Alfred! We're a family now, and damn it…we're going to stay a family a lot longer than this!" Mathew ranted, Alfred's face entrapped between his fingertips. "We'll get out of this Alfred! Now keep running before I carry you!" He roared, hauling Alfred to his feet with one arm and fending off an infected teenager with another.

"I… I…Alright…" Alfred relented, allowing Matthew to tug him back into motion. Matthew sighed in relief, now he just had to figure out how to make their way out of the mess they had gotten themselves into.

~X~

"Gilbert! In here!" Elizabeta pulled the wheezing albino into the back room of the store they had shoved their way into and slammed the door shut behind him. "Help me barricade the doors!" She ordered shoving shelves stripped of their original contents in front of the wood doors. Gilbert moved to help her and grabbed another shelf pushing it to where she directed him to. Outside the infected slammed into the doors desperately, their elongated fingernails dragging mercilessly against the glass of the windows.

Elizabeta groaned as more and more piled up against the doors, leaving streaks of gore against the glass as the force of the bodies behind them smashed the heads of the first rows of infected. The door creaked under the strain and she swore she could hear the pop of hinges. Sighing, Gilbert patted her shoulder quickly but comfortingly. She nodded at him and continued to pile up the shelves.

The deed was done quickly and they were soon secured as much as possible on the bottom floor.

"Let's move upstairs." Gilbert instructed and Elizabeta followed behind him quickly. "Help me get these stairs blocked off." He whispered searching the room around him. It was a simple room with a unmade double bed pushed to one side, with a dresser next to it nearly ransacked of clothes and a bathroom to one side. Gilbert shut the door behind them as they stepped in onto the hardwood floors.

"The dresser and the bed, help me move them over." Elizabeta went to the side of the large dresser and began to shove with all that she had. Gilbert smiled and went over to assist her; the force that the two exerted together was enough to shove the wooden barricades in the way of the door. "You get that side of the bed." Elizabeta ordered and the two moved that as well.

"Well." Gilbert whispered as the two plopped down on the floor across from the door, "That was fun." He attempted a chuckle; Elizabeta moaned and rolled her head into her knees.

"We're screwed! We're screwed! We're gonna die!" she muttered,

"Hey." Strong fingers gripped her cheeks and moved her chin upwards, forcing her to look him in his determined ruby eyes. " We are not going to die. I promise." Elizabeta stared up at him with red flushed cheeks, confused.

"What?" She asked, "How can you say that?" She demanded.

"Because when I look at you I see someone who isn't going to give up. I see someone who will fight until the last bit of fight is stripped away. Elizabeta, when I look at you I know I can promise that we are going to grow old and happy before we die, that we will see the end of this disaster." He smiled at her, flashing a shocking amount of beautifully white teeth. Elizabeta hesitated,

"Promise?" She whispered, Gilbert reached out and grabbed her hand.

"I promise." With that he tilted her face in with the hand still remaining on her face and pressed her lips against his. Her lips were soft against his yet they still seemed reluctant. He moved his lips against hers again and she seemed to relax a bit more.

Elizabeta gasped and her eyes widened as he pulled her closer and moved his large hand away from her hers and brought it up to her neck drawing her in closer. Elizabeta finally closed her eyes and brought her hands up to tangle in Gilbert's hair.

Gilbert was obviously the happiest he had been since the apocalypse started as he pushed Elizabeta carefully backwards against the wall. She allowed him to do so without resistance and it seemed she too, was in absolute bliss. Gilbert pulled her up into his lap and brought his arm to her front and gripped the zipper of her jacket. Elizabeta tensed at this as Gilbert slid the zipper down, revealing the shirt underneath.

She slowly pulled her face from his and pushed his chest back a bit before gripping his hands in her own. "No." She whispered, "Not here, not now." Gilbert pulled back a bit flabbergasted at his own hasty action. A red strip forming on his pale cheeks.

"Right… I'm sorry." He panted and shifted so he could sit next to her. "I didn't mean to…" She lifted her lips to his again to stop his apology. She pulled away and laughed,

"Don't be sorry." She sighed as she rested her head against his firm shoulder.

~X~

"Of course they'd be blocked! Damn it!" Matthew roared as he slammed against the sealed doors of a church, only a few blocks from the hotel they had been trying to reach. "Alfred help me!" He bellowed, ramming his shoulder into the side of the solid oak doors.

"These doors are meant to hold back hordes, why would we be able to open them Matthew?" Alfred demanded, his eyes sparking angrily as he rammed his katana into the stomach of one of the infected who managed to get close enough to touch them. He winced as the bowels split open jaggedly, half frozen juices splattering wetly against the white snow beneath their feet.

The zombie barely hesitated at the injury; disgusted Alfred reached back once more and sliced the things head clean from its body.

"If you've got a plan Mattie…tell me now or we're going to be as dead as these bastards in a few minutes." Alfred hissed, his hands slipping on the hilt as it grew increasingly wet with black blood.

"I'm thinking ok! There's…I mean…Come on! Give me some help here!" Matthew screamed towards the sky, pounding at the door feverishly. The infected were forming a sluggish ring around them, their frozen bodies not moving as quickly as the other infected they had encountered. Instead of them falling upon them like rabid animals, death was encroaching slowly like a great deadly wave.

"I changed my mind Mattie…I don't want to die. We need to get out of here like…right now!" Alfred spit, kicking at an infected crawling towards him on ragged stubs that had once been arms.

"I thought you were the leader! You think of something!" Matthew bellowed, his eyes flickering nervously towards any possible exit he could find as he moved closer and closer towards the oak door. The first of the infected to reach him were quick to meet with his hockey stick, their skulls crunching wetly beneath his swings.

Alfred could feel the hopelessness of the situation as more and more of the infected peeled themselves from the ground. Their decaying bodies cracking and crunching as they fought free from the ice. Alfred closed his eyes a moment in disgust as a few infected children were trampled as their older counterparts stampeded over them in search of food.

There was no way out. The infected had covered every angle of escape and were slowly making up for their lack of mobility with the sheer numbers they had hidden under the snow.

"I screwed up big time…didn't I Matthew?" Alfred chuckled, his voice wavering with suppressed panicked tears. Matthew shot a look over his shoulder, his face streaked with unimaginable amounts of gore. This time, Matthew chose not to answer as he turned back to his desperate struggle with the infected.

_This is it…isn't it? This is how we're going to die._ Alfred mused despondently, his mind too numb to truly grasp the terror of the situation._ We are going to die, pinned up against a church while the dead devour us slowly. _He could feel tears streaking down his cheeks as he frantically beat back at the infected, each blow a death, each death replaced by two more hungry faces gnashing their blood filled teeth at their legs, arms, and necks.

"Alfred…I just want you to know…" Matthew started, his voice wavering. "That if this is the end, and at this point I'm pretty sure it is, that you're the closest thing I've ever had to a brother, and if I'm going to die anywhere I am glad it's right at your side." Alfred smiled at him the best he could, but he wasn't sure he saw it.

"Man, that was sappy. But dude, you're the best bro ever." Alfred sniffed and felt Matthew place his back against his,

"Now, let's kill these bastards." The shorter blond growled and lowered his hockey stick into another infected person's skull. The infected were upon them finally. Teeth gnashed at them and claws racked across their arms and torso. Alfred pried one face away from his shoulder before teeth could penetrate only to have another pair of snapping jaws fall in as its replacement. He knew, if they could kill these zombies that they might have a chance to get back to the Humvee, but now even Matthew, who stood not even a foot away from him five seconds ago, was no longer in sight.

Alfred was ready to give up then, to drop his hands from his face and relax his fists and grip on the hilt of his sword. But he continued fighting regardless. He would not give up as long as there was a sliver of hope. He felt his back begin pushed into the door, the large knocker pressing deeply into his back, only cushioned by the thick leather jacket he wore.

He forced another punch into an infected's face without hesitation and heard the thick splitting sound of bone underneath his knuckles. He hand hurt, but pain was the least of his concerns.

"Matthew!" He screamed out, but there was no reply. He cursed and attempted to cut down a few more of the infected in front of him with no avail. There was too many of the enemy and they were overwhelmed. He thrust out his sword one last time before it was lodged into the sternum of a barrel chested infected with only half a frost bitten face. Attempting to yank the weapon free Alfred screamed as the infected continued to swarm him.

Suddenly, Alfred felt the presence of the door fall out from behind him, sending him staggering backwards under the force of the infected.

Crying out He reached out and snatched at Kiku's sword. His fingers brushed against the woven fabric along the hilt long enough for him to grab hold before he disappeared into the darkness of the church. With one final desperate lunge he gripped the sword and yanked it free of the infected man's chest and held it tightly in his hands.

Yelping, he felt himself fall back, the infected's weight slamming into him as he went. A boney hand wrapped around his neck tugging him upwards once more and towards a face he could not make out in the darkness. Panicked he turned and finally caught a glimpse Matthew's frantic face, being tugged into the dark abyss of the church right along with him.

Too determined to die so easily, Alfred clenched his eyes shut and whirled, sending a thick fist into the face of his attacker.

**Lacking motivation…no reviews for this chapter. *Sigh* Well…this one's kinda short, but it had a lot in it I 'pose. Is this the end for Alfred and Matthew?**

**Their lives rest in your hands…Review por favor! It's hard to write if I'm not sure people like it anymore!**


	13. Retreat to Survive

**Warning: Gore, blood. The warnings…they don't change much do they?**

As Alfred's fist connected with his attacker with a sickening crunch, falling back he felt blood pour down around his fingers, heard a yowl of agony and felt the hand wrapped around his form fall away as swiftly as it had come.

Landing with a thud against a row of bleachers Alfred howled in pain as his skull struck against the wooden pews. Rolling with a groan of pain he was startled to find the infected he had just socked in nose was already standing, and instead of leaping towards Alfred hungrily, was pulling a steel grate shut against the flow of zombies.

"_Hijo__ de __puta_." The man Alfred once thought to be infected swore as he blasted a few of the undead in the skull with a hand gun, and with a final roar shoved the steel grate shut. "Don't just sit there like an idiot! Help me shut this!" The man ordered harshly, waving at Matthew who was already staggering to his feet. Matthew was as quick to come to the man's aid as Alfred was slow to take in the situation. Soon enough, the doors were shut, leaving the three men panting in the main room of the church.

Regaining his senses, Alfred stood shakily, extending his hand out with a grateful smile. He was answered with the barrel of a gun. Gulping in a startled breath of air, Alfred stared around the barrel of the gun, horrified to see the emerald eyes of the guns owner flashing angrily. From where he was standing, Alfred could see blood pouring from the man's nose from where he struck him, the blood creating a demonic image in the dim lighting.

"What the hell are you doing?" Matthew cried, only to face a gun of his own as the man pulled out a second gun faster than they could react.

"Are you bit?" The man demanded his finger steady on the trigger, blood dripping from his chin onto the ground below him.

"What?" Alfred yelped, holding his hands up defensively. Had he seriously just been saved only to be killed by a psycho in a church?

"It's a simple question, _cabrón_." The man snapped, the gun pressing dangerously close to Alfred's skull. "Did one of those _demonios_ bite you?"

"No! No they didn't! Put that thing away! We didn't get bit I swear. Right, Mattie?" Alfred stammered out, his eyes bulging behind his glasses. The man's eyes flicked to Matthew who nodded feverishly. Hesitating for a moment, Alfred thought perhaps the man would still blow their brains out, but slowly the man lowered his guns to his side.

"_Bien_, I'm sorry for the roughness, but I've had one too many close calls in the past few weeks." The man sighed, holding a hand up to his bleeding nose and wincing as he moved back towards the alter of the church, away from the straining door behind him.

"That's…understood." Alfred gasped, following after the man slowly, cautiously. "I'm sorry…about the nose, I mean." The man shrugged, smiling slightly as he dabbed at the injury with his sleeve.

"I've had worse." He chuckled, pulling back a wooden panel while the boys watched him curiously. Beneath it lay a door, cleverly concealed behind the alter. "We don't have time for introductions I fear, those _demonios_will be in here any moment." He pointed out; turning a rusting doorknob and shoving the door open with a grunt.

"Where does that go?" Matthew demanded, straining to see over the strange man's shoulder, but only seeing a row of stairs leading down into the darkness below the church. The man grinned excitedly over his shoulder.

"It goes down."

~X~

"Gilbert!" Elizabeta hissed when the man began to doze off on her shoulder, exhausted from their eventful escape. "Gilbert, they are in the staircase!" She whispered frantically, shaking him vigorously.

"What? Already?" He demanded sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. His eyes were blurry as gazed up her dazedly and squinted at her in the dark.

The sun set hour ago. Meanwhile the infected outside had created their own barrier with the dead bodies of their fellows, unfortunately the infected already inside had been working their way through the heavy door of the back room for hours, their screeches and wails radiating up the hall. It had been the squeal of the door finally caving in that sent Elizabeta from any attempt at dozing.

"We need to get out of here!" She explained again and pulled herself off of the floor. Gilbert nodded and stood beside her, peeking out the window through the blinds and wincing when he spotted the growing pile of infected beneath them

"Well we won't be using the road that's for sure. The damned things have pretty much blocked that means of escape." His discovery was met with a disgusted groan from Elizabeta.

"Then where do we go? I do not want to die in here Gilbert!" She growled. He sighed as above them snow from the roof tumbled to the ground below, shaken loose by the infected's violent actions below.

_There has to be another way across town…another way to avoid the infected completely. _He contemplated, staring out the window calculatingly.

Elizabeta was grumbling in frustration behind him, reaching out and she slammed her fist against the wall, the strike sending piles of snow tumbling down onto the infected who responded with roars of irritation to match Elizabeta's. Gilbert's eyes flicked to the window once again as the infected began pounding on the door to the room they had barricaded themselves in.

_These things are coming from every angle! Jesus Christ…I swear the only direction they're not coming from is…_

"Up…" He whispered. Elizabeta paused her furious ranting. "Elizabeta…we need to go up!" He cried in realization.

"Up? Gilbert what on Earth are you talking about?" She demanded as he threw open the window and peered upwards towards where the icicles were hanging from the snow coated roof. It would be slippery, and potentially lethal, but it was their only shot.

"We need to get up onto the roof!" He explained excitedly as the door creaked and the furniture they had pressed up against the door began to shift noticeably. "There's a row of these spikes that are meant to keep snow from avalanching off the roofs, we need to grab onto there and haul ourselves up." She stared back at him blankly, her eyes full of apprehension.

"That's suicidal…" She pointed out.

"Hell yes it is." He grinned.

"If we fall…or miss at all…" Her face was crinkled into a calculating frown.

"We fall to our deaths." Gilbert nodded his tone understanding.

"It's our only shot isn't it?"

"Awesome am I right?" Gilbert chuckled, rubbing the bridge of his nose as she contemplated the situation.

"There won't be any zombies on the roofs…if this works… we can get back to the Humvee over the roofs." She realized, walking towards the window, attempting to avoid looking at the sea of hands and teeth below. Gilbert sighed and joined her, leaning an arm against the wall beside her, his eyes flicking towards the straining door.

"Wait, what about Mattie and Al? We can't just leave them here." Elizabeta didn't turn to look at him as she spoke softly.

"Liza, you saw how many zombies went after them. They're probably dead." Gilbert shook his head.

"Gil, we got out just fine, how should we expect any different?"

"Elizabeta have you heard any gun shots from them?" She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him angrily, but he continued unfazed "Face it; we can only worry about ourselves right now, ok? If they're alive we can come back with more people and save them. But WE are alive, Elizabeta. Now we just have to stay that way until we get to a safe place."

"No where's safe anymore." Elizabeta whispered under her breath, he responded by kissing her softly.

"Everything is going to be fine." He insisted, running a finger across her cheek. She wished she could believe him.

"Let's just get out of here." She chuckled, punching him on the shoulder. "But you better keep that promise from earlier."

Gilbert nodded. Wasting no further time he grabbed ahold of the window and with a grunt, popped it out of its frame and threw it bodily at the crowd beneath, gaining sick satisfaction when it sent three infected sprawling to the ground with a splatter of crimson against the pure white streets bellow.

"Pop." He whispered quietly.

"It sure is a big drop down." Elizabeta whispered, feeling trepidation swell up in her chest. She held her breath as Gilbert moved onto the thin window ledge, holding onto the now empty window frame from the inside as he strained to reach the roof.

"I can reach it!" He laughed as they stretched upwards and managed to cling to one of the spikes on the edge of the roof.

"Yes!" Elizabeta cheered feeling relieved for the first time in hours.

"Now, let me go first and I'll get you up after I make sure it's safe!" As he spoke a loud crack rang through the building.

"Make it quick." She called as the door groaned hopelessly behind her. "Gilbert! Hurry up!" She hissed as he slunk out of the window completely and clung onto the ledge. The entire roof shook when he gripped onto the spikes and Elizabeta lurched forward to grab his legs as he stood on the window ledge, the fragile wood groaning beneath him. "Damn it!" She cursed as the wood strained under his weight. "Hurry!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Gilbert called back to her. He was nearly ready to swing up onto the roof when suddenly his snow-slicked boots slipped on the ledge and he began to fall backwards with a yelp. Elizabeta gasped out as he lurched out to snagged onto the side of the roof once again, groaning as the cut on his hand dug deeply into the spike and stars blossomed before his eyes.

"Are you ok?" She called up to him as he swore, blood dribbling down his hand splattering onto the frenzied crowd below.

"Yep…I'm awesome." He spat through his teeth. With a final push he swore and leapt onto the roof, disappearing from Elizabeta's line of sight for a moment.

"Gilbert?" She called up.

"COME ON!" He screamed back at her his hand reappearing in front of her face, his coat now wrapped around a T.V. antenna for support. Elizabeta grinned in triumph, reaching out to accept the hand.

A large chunk of door came flying from its frame and smacked against the back wall next to her the moment she reached out to grab onto his hand. Instantly, a slender infected woman began pushing herself through the hole that had been made and Elizabeta gagged in fear. She scrambled for Gilbert's hand as the woman sprinted forward and swung herself around. Infected from the ground were attempting to scramble up the walls in order to reach her, only to fall back down and be used as a stepping stone for the others behind them. Elizabeta swung out on the ledge.

"Gilbert pull…."

She was nearly out of reach when the infected woman from before snagged onto her leg and threw herself out the window. Elizabeta yelped as she lost her footing on the ledge and clung onto Gilbert's hand. She heard him cry out in agony as he was suddenly supporting the weight of the two women with his injured hand. She flailed at the woman, who was attempting to bite through her heavy winter coat with her viciously sharp teeth.

"GET OFF!" Elizabeta roared angrily, kicking the woman squarely in the chest and forcing the woman off. With a final shriek the woman fell, taking nearly half of Elizabeta's coat with her and crashing into the dead below. Panting, Elizabeta turned back towards the ledge where the infected were reaching for her desperately. Swallowing, she looked back up towards Gilbert's frantic ruby eyes as he pulled her to safety.

She landed on the roof with a thud, shooting her legs out to create footing on the spikes, panting heavily.

"Too close." She nearly sobbed, shuddering violently "Way too close."

"We're good." Gilbert panted, binding his hand with a strip of his shirt. "We got this. You're okay." He laughed nervously, displaying his bandaged wound proudly, "It's probably gonna scar huh?" He grinned toothily, teasing a nervous laugh from her as she struggled to stand up on the steep roof.

"Let's go, we have until sunrise to get back to the others and the sun is nearly up." She explained, scrabbling for a handhold on the slick roof. Slowly trailing along the roof to the edge, and peering down at the neighboring building. "I can see them over there, oh! Oh God Gilbert, the infected got out!" Gilbert, pulling on his ragged coat, slid over to see what she was looking at.

The Infected where flowing through a narrow gap in the wall after the Humvee which sped around the fence frantically.

"Quick, Eliza! This way!" He prodded pulling her in a good direction for them to meet up with the Humvee. "We can get their attention from over here!" He told her and motioned for her to follow him. Obliging, Elizabeta turned and shadowed after him.

~X~

"Now, that grate won't hold them for long." The church man informed Alfred and Matthew, as they jogged down the stairwell quickly. "Jesus, you watch the door, and let us know when they get through, okay?" He called out to no one.

"Jesus?" Matthew whispered, "Like, Christ?" The tan brunette that had saved them turned around and nodded,

"You know him too?" He laughed, looking cheerful suddenly over the rag he was holding up to his nose. Matthew nodded slowly, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah." He said.

"Oh good then I don't have to introduce you! Do you know Mary too? She was the one who said I had to save you!" He sighed again pointing an accusing figure at a statue of the Virgin Mary, placed decoratively on a shelf in the stairwell. "Okay, I know it was for the better good…alright alright!" he protested

"Dude, this guy's kinda loose in the head." Alfred whispered to Matthew. The man peered over his shoulder at Alfred, who froze instantly.

"Si, just a bit." He laughed back at them quickly, "But when these two are your only company other than a couple of Saints in the other room, you kinda start bickering, don't get me wrong, they're nice, honestly." He winked, "Righteous, one might say." Slowly he turned back to the stair well and began moving downwards once again.

"So, umm who are you?" Alfred demanded, "Oh and…thank you for saving us and all." He put in.

"Antonio Carriedo." He grinned, "I lived a couple of blocks away, just me and mi hermano, but you know... this happened and everyone was evacuated to the church. Everyone eventually died out or went to the school for safety; I'm guessing it was more of the people who didn't believe in the dear Lord anymore, they didn't feel safe here. Even mi hermano left…" He said sadly, "Said it would be safer at the school…Eventually it was just me and the priest and he died of a heart attack a few days ago

"So I've been hanging with Jesus here." He pointed to a painting up on the wall, "But there is no time for those stories now… come on!" He insisted ushering Alfred and Matthew further down.

"Antonio, those doors are sounding kind of…creaky…" Alfred, who took up the rear, muttered shooting a look over his shoulder.

"They'll break soon. That grate is okay for holding out one or two of those things, who knows maybe even five, But the twenty or forty that you brought, no way. I give it about five more minutes before-" the doors busted open, with a horrendous crunch "Or not." He shrugged and began running down the remainder of the stair.

Once everyone was in the room at the bottom of the church Antonio shoved the massive oak door shut just as infected began slamming into it.

"This is a Holy place! You aren't allowed here!" Antonio yelled back at the raging infected behind them.

"We'll have to go out the back window." Matthew pointed to a small stain glass window that was placed in the corner of one of the room, allowing colored light to flood into the space. "Antonio you go first," He prodded, "You saved us. You deserve to get out."

"Are you sure you aren't just sacrificing me to go and make sure it's clear?" Antonio demanded with a distrusting scowl on his face, the blood caked on his face testament enough to reasons for his distrust.

"No, honestly!" Matthew pleaded as the doors whined and shuddered. Still looking unsure, Antonio finally grabbed Matthew's extended hockey stick and with a quick prayer busted out the window.

"I'm probably going to Hell for that." He muttered, "Breaking windows in a church..." He tutted slithering through the opening nimbly. He climbed through without a problem, Alfred following closely after him.

With a final groan, the door busted open then, allowing the infected access into the room. Matthew gasped at the sudden onslaught of infected and clambered for the window. Alfred grabbed his hand and began to tug him up. Matthew felt boney hands rake against his legs. Glass from the window pressed into his abdomen, breaking the skin and causing the blood to drip out. The infected snagging onto his legs frenzied at the spilt blood and Matthew felt a sudden immense pain on his ankle.

He winced and Alfred finally lifted him up and onto the ground out of the reach of the infected.

"Here!" Antonio staggered over with a massive headstone large enough to block the exit and placed it over the window. "Senor Evans will have to forgive me for desiccating his grave…" He muttered, before shaking his head to clear it. "They're coming from around front, let's go!" He called, Matthew fell against Alfred with a huff holding his wounded stomach and trying to assess the damage done to his leg.

"I think I'm bit." He whispered to Alfred only.

"No dude…" The blonde denied quietly, his voice a frantic squeak in his own ears.

"My ankle, I'm not sure though, I couldn't see anything. Besides, the infected are coming." He shook his head, "I can't out run them. Give me your gun and run. Take Antonio and find the group. Use the top of the fence and get out. Go to the edge of town and if I'm not there by sun-rise, I was bit or I'm dead. Go Alfred."

"No bro, I can't leave you here!" Matthew shook his head,

"Damn it! Go!" Alfred cursed, and unbuckled his pistol, handing it to Matthew.

"Come back, Mattie." He whispered and wrapped Matthew in a quick hug before kissing him on both cheeks.

"I'll do my best ok? You get out of here, and tell my papa that…that it isn't his fault. Tell him not to give up and that I'll be happy with mama. Tell him, _Je l'aime_." Matthew squeezed Alfred's arm and nodded, shoving him back towards Antonio and turning to face the oncoming horde. "Get out of here Alfred!" He bellowed over his shoulder. Alfred felt himself choking on his grief as he wiped his eyes with his snow coated sleeve and rushed back to the frantic looking Antonio.

"Come on Antonio." He barked, grabbing the man by the sleeve and pulling him into a sprint.

"Wait! Why is the other _muchacho_ not coming?" He demanded, his emerald eyes sending glances back to Matthew as the boy limped away from them, leading the infected away.

"He can't." Alfred croaked, bashing a stray infected in the skull and shoving Antonio towards the fence. Antonio blinked in confusion, but knew better than to say anything as he sighed sympathetically and pulled Alfred towards the fence.

Alfred's eyes trailed after Matthew, despondent at the knowledge he had just lost the closest thing he had ever had to a brother, and it was his fault.

**Waaaaah! Panic! Will Matthew make it out alive? Will any of them get out alive? Will the groups meet up again? **

**All these questions answered and more in the next chapter.**

**Thanks for all the reviews guys! It really does make me move faster.**

**Review…it's good for your soul.**


	14. Reunited

**Blah blah blah warnings blah blah blah stuff…**

Hands clutching at the rough tiles and feet scrambling to keep a hold of the roof's edge, Gilbert and Elizabeta struggled along the tops of the houses. The tiles were slick with ice, ensuring that Gilbert and Elizabeta could only move at a crawl, a frustrating pace when already the infected were scrambling to reach them on the ground below.

Finally, after nearly an hour of crawling across the slanted roofs, Gilbert finally reached the first line of the steel containers forming the wall. Smirking triumphantly he stood up straight and helped Elizabeta down.

"There they are." Elizabeta pointed out, grabbing onto Gilbert's hand and towing him towards where the Humvee could barely be spotted over the tops of the swarming infected.

"Ludwig! LOOK UP! Ludwig! He can't see us…" Gilbert swore as he and Elizabeta edged their way across the tops of the steel containers, trying not to look down at the infected clambering up towards them.

Just ahead, the Humvee had turned into a roaring death machine, its tires flattening infected left and right as Tino blasted the infected from the sunroof with his rifle. It was obvious that they were attempting to stay as close to the area his group had entered while still keeping themselves alive, and were doing a pretty damn good job of it.

The only problem would be for Gilbert and Elizabeta to actually get into the Humvee without getting eaten by the agitated swarm of infected below.

"There will never be anything easy about this infection will there?" Elizabeta demanded, crouching next to him as she examined the situation. He shook his head with a small chuckle making her smile. "I suppose it would make this whole thing too easy…"

"Oh ja, way too easy. Wouldn't want to go a day without risking our necks would we?" He muttered, straightening again and blasting an infected that was getting a bit too close to being able to climb onto the ledge. "Running out of bullets." He admitted, peering into his ammo pack and sighing at the meager contents. .

"Well hopefully the town is running out of zombies." She put in, snagging her frying pan from her waste and holstering her pistol. Gilbert chuckled in agreement, continuing his trek across the trailers.

"GUYS!" The two jumped as a frantic familiar voice cried out behind them. Swirling Gilbert grinned excitedly as Alfred came sprinting down the tops of the containers and standing behind him was…

"Where's Mattie…where the hell is Matthew? That isn't Matthew!" Gilbert stammered, straining to see the little blonde he had grown to adore over the past few days. Alfred was almost up to him, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and sorrow. His face was caked with dirt and blood and there were small shimmering shards of glass clinging to the front of his shirt.

"Alfred!" Elizabeta squealed, throwing her arms around his neck as he approached. Alfred let out a relieved sob as she held him, burrowing his face into her shoulder. He stood shaking as both Gilbert and Elizabeta looked at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…God what have I done?" He wailed, slumping against her.

"Alfred its ok…Alfred please don't cry…we really don't have time…" Elizabeta cried, shooting a look at the frantic looking Gilbert.

"Where the hell is Matthew?" Gilbert demanded grabbing Alfred by the shoulder and demanding that he look at him with a firm hand under his chin.

"He's gone…He's gone…They got him…I couldn't…I didn't pull him out fast enough." Alfred choked. Gilbert's face fell instantly, groaning he rubbed his temples angrily thrusting Alfred's shoulder out of his grasp.

"Poor Mattie…Damn those bastards to hell." He growled, his fists clenched at his side.

"I'm sorry for your loss he was a sweet kid…but um…there is a lot of infected down there and I would really like to get away from them, por favor." Antonio squeaked, his shot gun held in his hands firmly.

"And who the hell are you?" Gilbert demanded, scowling at the man who should have been Matthew.

"The man who just saved Alfred's skin?" Antonio snapped back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Honestly between the punch in the nose and some of the attitude around here, I'm beginning to feel that you didn't want me to save you." Alfred sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry Antonio, I truly am grateful…guys this is Antonio…He saved me and Matthew…at least…at least for a while." Alfred put in brokenly.

"Alright…nice to meet you Antonio, I'm Gilbert and this is Elizabeta." Gilbert mumbled turning away from the rest of his group and continuing to trudge towards where the Humvee was battling it out with the infected. "You're right…we need to get out of here. Anyone got any ideas how to get their attention?"

"Looks like that loco white guy up there would be able to see us if he just looked up." Antonio commented absentmindedly, "Maybe if one of us shot down one of the zombies or something around the big truck thing then he might be able to see us." He suggested and went down on one knee, pulling a shotgun up to his shoulder,

"We want to shoot near them, not bust their tire. You can't use that thing, it's not accurate." Elizabeta snapped frantically, brushing the gun's barrel to the side before he shot.

"Oh yeah, right." Antonio murmured and snatched the gun that Elizabeta was holding. "This will be better." He nodded at her and then focused through the scope. "One dead demonio coming up." He whispered and pulled back the trigger.

The blast was enough to startle the living daylights out of Tino. They could hear him yelp even above the infected's roars, and soon enough the Finn's gaze shot upwards searching for the source of the blast.

"Shoot again!" Gilbert ordered. Antonio shot him a strange look, his startled frown melting into a goofy smile when he realized the German was not looking at him furiously.

"Got it, Captain!" He saluted and fired, busting open the head of an infected climbing up the back tire. The noise was enough to get his attention; Tino spotted them and yelled something into the Humvee.

"They see us! Oh god…now Francis sees us." Elizabeta choked as the Frenchmen popped his head up out of the Humvee and gave an obvious wail after scanning over the group on the containers. He tried to yell something at them but was too far away for his question to be heard. Soon his head was replaced by Arthur's who waved excitedly and seemed to be giving directions to Ludwig as to where to drive.

With a screech of tires on snow, Ludwig wheeled the blood soaked Humvee around and sped to their side. Within seconds he was parked right below them, the infected that had been crawling up the sides of the container dead under his tires.

"I don't know how happy they'll be to see me." Antonio admitted to Alfred, looking nervous. "I should have stayed with Jesus and Mary. They like me better." He added and grabbed one of Elizabeta's hands to lower her down into the opening on the roof as Tino and Alfred shot down the infected around them. Elizabeta slid in without trouble followed by Gilbert. "Go muchacho." He motioned for Alfred to get into the opening, "I don't think they'll be too happy to see me. Maybe I'll just stay here and guard your rear." He insisted,

"No. They're happy to see other survivors, go in and I'll explain what happened when I get down." Alfred nodded at him.

"Are you sure?" Antonio demanded, shirking away from the Humvee skittishly.

"Positive." Alfred assured him, grabbing Antonio's tan hand in his, and with a firm grasp, lowered the slender man into the Humvee. As expected there was a roar of confusion as he entered. Sighing, Alfred hopped down with assistance from Tino.

"Where's Matthew?" The Finn whispered as Antonio attempted to pull Alfred between him and the furious looking group.

"Gone." Alfred said in return, his voice nearly catching in his throat.

"WHERE IS MY SON!" Francis wailed jabbing a finger at Alfred angrily, "ALFRED! Where the Hell is mon petite! This bastard isn't him!" He screamed, pointing an accusing finger at Antonio who looked as if he might be attempting to merge with the side of the Humvee. Alfred shot Francis a scowl,

"Matthew's gone for now. He told us to meet him at the end of town by sunset. He was hurt and refused to come, he thought he was bit. Francis, I'm sorry." Alfred attempted clambering up into the front seat next to Ludwig, keeping his gaze locked on the faces of the infected outside.

"So you replaced him with this Mexican?" Francis snarled, grabbing onto Antonio and shaking him viciously.

"HEY!" Gilbert snapped, yanking Antonio away and placing him on the seat on the opposite side of Elizabeta. When the Frenchman looked like he might try going for Alfred instead, Gilbert growled angrily, his hand on his pistol. Francis balked at the action, and turned away.

"I am not Mexican…I'm Spanish!" Antonio muttered behind Gilbert cautiously, holding a cross between his fingers as he warily eyed Francis. "I saved him and Matthew at the church okay? They would both be dead without me, When we were trying to escape we had to go out the back window, Matthew got out last and they grabbed his leg. There was nothing any of us could do." This time it was Tino who began to shout angrily.

"I told you not to go!" Tino snapped, "Alfred, I warned you this would happen! You should have listened to me!"

"Leave him alone! He was right to check for people who might still be alive!" Gilbert jumped to Alfred's defense, a demon eyed bodyguard.

"It's all your fault my dear Matthew is GONE!" Francis sobbed, making no move to attack, but his eyes blazing angrily.

"Maybe we wouldn't have been so bad off if you idiots hadn't let us go by ourselves!" Elizabeta put in, her eyes flashing.

"Idiots? I'm not an idiot! If anyone's an idiot here it's you all! I told you not to go!" Tino lashed back, attempting to get a look around Gilbert who was still forming a wall between their group and the group who had stayed behind.

"Stop it!" Feliciano whimpered, his face in his hands.

"Would you lot shut it?" Arthur growled scooting into the front seat to sit with Alfred,

"Well maybe if so many people wouldn't have gone there wouldn't have been this problem!" Ludwig yelled back speeding away from the fence and quickly losing the infected in the tree line.

"Stop fighting!" Feliciano screamed.

"It's Gilbert's fault for tripping into that damn trashcan!" Elizabeta cried. Ignoring the shocked look on Gilbert's face.

"Don't you dare try to pin this on me!" Gilbert howled angrily, his gaze tearing away from Tino's long enough to scowl at her.

"I can't believe you two!" Francis put in, "It is mon petite that is gone! It is all of your fault that he is dead!"

"I can't believe I kissed you!" Gilbert hissed at Elizabeta, ignoring the Frenchman.

"Oh ditto!" Elizabeta growled menacingly.

"Wait, what?" Iain chirped in suddenly enflamed with rage, "You did what?"

"Damn it Iain stay out of this!" Gilbert snapped, not turning away from Elizabeta.

"Guys, none of this would have happened if you had listened to me!" Tino spat, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Stop!" Feliciano whined weakly.

"Would you all shut up I'm trying to drive!" Ludwig growled, his eyebrow twitching.

"Alfred no, stop crying." Arthur sighed, squeezing Alfred's shoulder comfortingly.

"All my fault, all my fault!" Alfred groaned, his face pressed against the blood splattered window.

"Blame the damn American! It was him that forced you in there!" Francis scoffed, pointing angrily at the sobbing American.

"Blame him? For what? For trying to save people?" Gilbert roared back, finally tearing his gaze away from Elizabeta.

"ALL OF YOU SHUT UP!" Arthur screeched over everyone, sending silence over the entirety of the small space. "It's not Gilbert's fault for tripping! It's not Alfred's fault for leading anyone in there! It's not Antonio's fault… hi, I'm Arthur by the way, nice to have you with us…It's not Antonio's fault for surviving when Matthew didn't! So pull your heads out of your asses and realize that Matthew could still be ALIVE!

"You heard Alfred, he might be at the end of town by sundown, so we might as well head that way because if we don't keep hope, Matthew WILL die. Now shut up, and leave everyone else alone!" He bellowed angrily, sucking in a deep breath he regained his composure quickly and turned to Ludwig. "Ludwig keep going straight until we lose them completely. We'll circle back around in about half an hour, and park at the entrance sign." Arthur ordered, his eyes flashing in a way that dared anyone to challenge him. Satisfied when no one would meet his gaze, he sat back and continued stroking Alfred's hair comfortingly, "It's alright." He whispered, "It wasn't your fault." Alfred wept shakily into Arthur's chest but attempted to nod.

After a long moment, it was Antonio who broke the silence.

"So." Antonio muttered, "Nice to meet everyone?" He croaked nervously, flinching when Francis scowled at him. Tino sighed after a moment:

"I'm sorry that you got such a rough introduction kid. They normally aren't like this…Okay here it is, the little squeaky one is Feliciano. The asshole over there, that's Francis. Iain is the redhead. You've met Elizabeta, Gilbert, and Alfred. The one holding Alfred is Arthur. That's Ludwig driving. " Tino introduced everyone, "Oh, and I'm Tino. I'm new to the group too; they're a bit insane, but aren't we all now a days?" He sighed, "Sorry for yelling. I'm generally quieter."

"Oh, thanks." Antonio nodded and attempted to relay the names to the faces in a whisper.

"No I'm Arthur, love." The Brit whispered back when Antonio mistook him for Ludwig,

"Oh, I'm sorry." Antonio blushed rubbing the back of his head with a grin, looking away with bright red cheeks he returned to memorizing names once again.

"We're almost here." Ludwig announced after a while of the group's angry silence. "I think we're safe to loop around…haven't seen an infected in a while."

"Good." Arthur nodded; Alfred had removed himself from Arthur's arms and was now looking intently at the map, although anyone could tell he was still attempting to hold back any tears that might be left.

Francis on the other hand was still sobbing loudly into his hands. Sighing, Elizabeta moved over to him quietly, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Across from here, Iain and Gilbert glared at each other menacingly.

Watching them with regret eating at her chest, Elizabeta finally decided to break up the tension. She felt terrible for her earlier comment, and she could tell it was eating at Gilbert as well, but wasn't sure how well he would react to her apology.

"I'm sorry Gilbert." Elizabeta finally said, Gilbert looked up from his intense stare off with Iain. Instead of a scowl, Elizabeta was met with the largest grin she had ever seen produced from the man.

"Me too, I don't like it when you're mad at me." He laughed. "So…am I still allowed to keep my promise?" He asked, holding out his pinkie hesitantly. She accepted slowly and wrapped her pinkie around his,

"Forever. You're stuck with it." She smiled, Iain snorted in disgust and turned towards the window. Tino, who was planted next to him, patted him on the back. Surprised, Tino found that he could feel the rough fabric of bandages through Iain's thin shirt.

"So that's where they went…" Tino whispered quiet enough for Iain not to hear him.

"I don't need your sympathy." Iain growled, flinching away from the contact. Tino rolled his eyes trying to stifle a slight chuckle.

"Okay." He smiled and turned back to the road in front of them.

"There." Arthur pointed out the small sign that read on one side: 'You are now leaving Helena' and on the other, 'Welcome to Helena' Identical to the one they had seen before, but this one was still standing.

"We'll wait here. Tino you go snipe. Whoever wants to go with him go." Alfred said suddenly back into command, pulling himself out of his gunk as quickly as he thought possible. Arthur patted his hand in a 'thank you for not giving up.'

"I'll go." Antonio volunteered eagerly when no one spoke up, wanting to get out of the awkward Humvee as soon as possible. No one stopped him as he held a hand out for Elizabeta's gun once again. She handed the gun over without hesitation her hand still locked with Gilbert's.

"Don't everyone jump out of your seats at once." Tino murmured jokingly as he climbed onto the roof with Antonio right on his tail.

"I'll take towards the town you face the other way, okay?" Tino smiled attempting to be friendly. He had never really been one to be rude to people, but lately he had been finding it difficult to communicate with people normally. He could tell that the Spaniard could use someone to talk to, the way he shirked away from the rest of the group hinted that he had probably been alone longer than Tino had, and the angry reception he had received was a slap in the face for the obviously personable man.

"Okay, that's fine." Antonio nodded a grateful smile gracing his lips.

"So." Tino inquired after a while, "What's your story?" He asked awkwardly. Antonio laughed, and after thinking a moment, proceeded to explain himself.

~X~

"How much longer until sun down?" Francis whispered, peering out the window desperately.

"Two hours." Alfred responded holding leveling his hand up to the horizon to estimate the time remaining. Ludwig raised an eyebrow at the tactic but didn't question him seeing as he was correct.

"Matthew, please be alright." The group almost said in unison.

~x~

Iain wanted to puke.

For one, the pain in his chest hadn't gotten any better since the night before and he wouldn't risk a look at it while so many people were around.

Secondly, Gilbert and Elizabeta hadn't let go of each other's hands since they made up. Even in their sleep they held onto each other's hands intently.

Disgusted, He reached a foot out and kicked their hands gently, breaking their grip on one another and causing Gilbert to flinch noticeably. Raising an eyebrow, Iain prodded the gloved hand again. This time Gilbert sat up with a roar of pain, startling everyone in the van, even causing Alfred to hit his head on the ceiling.

Feliciano was the first to lash out and grab his hand as Gilbert hissed and began to fight with the glove on his apparently injured hand. Without so much as asking, the Italian ripped off the glove revealing the festering, bleeding wound. Gilbert winced when Ludwig spun around at the commotion. Iain couldn't help but smirk as the wound came into view.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Both Ludwig and Feliciano snapped at the same time, Gilbert winced and looked away.

"I forgot okay?" Gilbert growled, his eyes watering noticeably.

"This will get infected if you don't clean it." Feliciano sighed and poked Tino's leg. Tino swung down in curiously.

"What cha need kiddo?" He asked, eyeing Gilbert's hand with a hiss.

"Med kit." Feliciano said simply. Everyone raised an eyebrow at Feliciano's coolness at the wound. Tino unstrapped the red package from his thigh and handed it down. Iain looked up at the Finn; he must have had an extra.

"One of three I could find at home, I had four…but one of them was missing." Tino winked at Iain, who flinched,

_How the hell did he find out?_ Iain wondered but didn't say anything as he turned away.

"Stay still" Feliciano ordered as he pulled out an alcohol swab and began wiping down Gilbert's wound. Gilbert yelped once and then ground his teeth to cope with the pain. Elizabeta reached out and snatched his uninjured hand comfortingly.

Ludwig watched in wonder as Feliciano worked, the red head turned to him momentarily and smiled causing a red blush to rage across Ludwig's cheeks.

"Where did you learn to do this?" Ludwig asked after a long silence and Feliciano had begun doing neat, even stitches along Gilbert's hand.

"I was in nursing school for a bit before I quit. I wanted to be a chef…sorry I didn't say anything earlier it probably would have been helpful." He whispered, Iain snorted,

"Probably." he snapped, but when Arthur turned to look at him he quickly turned awkwardly to the side.

"Well Gilbert I'll get you some pain killers, but remember we don't want to use them all up so I can only give you two." Feliciano handed the two pills in question to Gilbert after wiping the blood off of his hands.

"Danke." The tall albino nodded, as surprised as the rest of the group.

"Guys…it's sundown." Arthur whispered, sadly.

"Should we wait here until morning and just lock ourselves up?" Ludwig offered, scanning across the tree line.

"We can try." Alfred agreed. Arthur nodded, pounding on the roof for one of the two to come down. Antonio popped his head down, nervously taking in the distressed looks of Humvee's occupants.

"You lot come down, Ludwig and I will take over." Arthur instructed. Antonio nodded and the four switched places as everyone else attempted to settle down for the night in the cramped space.

~X~X~X~X~

**Where's Matthew! WAAAAAH! Tensions are rising in the group, and who knows what's going to happen next? Keep reading for the answers to these questions and more!**

** A review a day keeps the infected at bay! Once again…their lives are in your hands.**


	15. Shards Of Glass

"Sun, go back down." Alfred whispered as everyone else dozed and the bright orb appeared over the first of the roofs. Ignoring his plead, the sun continued its lazy crawl across the skyline.

Alfred lowered his head into his palms, grief flooding through his pores and leaving him once again stripped of what little hope he had left.

He shouldn't be alive…Matthew was the one who should have been survived. It wasn't Matthew who made the decision to enter the God forsaken town, it was his. So why was it that he was the one sitting inside the warm Humvee, surrounded with the sleeping faces of his companions, while Matthew died alone in the frost coated forest?

_They need you Alfred…_ Mathew's words formed in his mind like a spark, shoving him out of his stupor. _We're a family now…and we're going to be a family a lot longer than this. _

"Alfred?" Looking up he could make out Arthur's head poking down through the open turret, his cheeks pink and raw from the icy wind smacking against his face while he and Ludwig kept guard over the group.

Alfred sighed and waved Arthur up, pulling himself up onto the roof. Standing he squinted along the fence line to see if he could spot Matthew staggering along the top of the fence.

Shaking his head when he saw nothing he turned back to Arthur sitting on the roof with a gun lying over his lap. Arthur looked back up at him, exhausted and just as depressed as Alfred was.

"Let's go." Alfred whispered his eyes cold and emotionless. "There's nothing we can do, and I won't sacrifice anyone else to find someone that is probably dead." Alfred murmured. Standing, Arthur patted his cheek sympathetically and nodded in agreement. He chose not to say anything as he turned to the half frozen German sitting on the opposite side of the roof.

"Come on Ludwig." Arthur murmured grabbing the large German's shoulder and pulling him away from the scope of his rifle.

"Alright." Ludwig yawned, his bones creaking as he stood, following after them as they slid down into the Humvee.

"You two sleep, Gilbert you take the wheel." Alfred ordered as he patted Gilbert's face sleeping face.

To his surprise, Gilbert's eyes shot open frantically as he sat up, sending Elizabeta sprawling to floor and onto Iain who had fallen to sleep on the floor beside them. Alfred winced as Iain sat up with a howl of pain and Elizabeta began flailing in search of whatever enemy had found her.

Chuckling from across the Humvee, Tino and Antonio quickly set to work untangling the two.

"Got it." Gilbert grunted once Elizabeta was sitting up again, her hair frizzled and sticking out from under her hat. Iain on the other half was sulking in the corner, cradling his chest while he grumbled angrily to himself. Alfred sighed as Gilbert climbed over the back of the chair into the driver's seat.

"Are we giving up on Matthew?" Tino asked quietly, shooting a glance at Francis who had managed not wake up during the noisy tussle between Elizabeta and Iain, and sighed when Alfred nodded. "He'll take it hard…I'm not sure how he's going to react. I've noticed he's never really been 'stable' has he?" Alfred raised an eyebrow, questioning Tino's point. "Never mind…forget I said anything." He muttered and turned to the window he was closest too.

Across the Humvee, a tear rolled down Francis' cheek. Clenching his hand in an irate fist, the Frenchman continued to pretend to be asleep, too angry to look at the faces of the people who had let his son die.

~X~

Matthew emptied the last of his pistol rounds into a pair of infected women, grinning exhaustedly as three more infected staggered and fell over the two. The infected still standing were hampered by the downed infected, their awkward limbs unable to effectively climb over the squirming barricade. This small distraction gave Matthew the time he needed to escape down the thin alley he had chosen for his escape.

He continued to limp on, moving as fast as he could through the blood drenched snow. His ankle was radiating pain and heat like a furnace, leaving him hobbling through the knee high snow at a speed just above the infected behind him.

Somehow, he had managed to keep ahead of the group throughout the entirety of the night. The sun rising behind him was a sick reminder that the others would have left, believing him dead. He had no hopes they would send someone after him, the idea was ridiculous. Alfred thought he was bit, a fact he was still not sure wasn't true, and wouldn't risk sending a group after someone that was already dead.

An infected attempted to snag him from the side just as he turned a corner and lurched out of the sight of the other screeching infected. Swirling he smashed his hockey stick into the creature's skull, swearing as the wood snapped with a sickening crack.

Tossing the useless weapon aside, Matthew snatched another stick from his back and spotted a house just up the road that he could reach before the infected would round the corner. Not bothering to second guess himself, Matthew sucked in a breath and sprinted for the door as quickly as he could force his legs to move.

After about half the distance, his ankle buckled under him and he staggered, sprawling into the snow. Swearing as the icy ground bit into his hands and cheek he rolled and kicked himself back to his feet with his good foot. Limping up the snow covered porch he slammed against the unlocked, hand print streaked door, and staggered inside.

The front room was clear of life, so with a silent cheer he slammed the door shut and slumped to the ground, his hands over his mouth to stifle his panicked gasps for air.

Pressing his ear to the door he strained to hear the shuffling feet of the infected. If they had seen him rush into the house they would be upon the building any moment and as exhausted as he was, he would be in no condition to stop them.

His heart pounded as he heard a series of screams and groans outside the building. The horde was moving in front of the house slowly, their feet crunching through the snow in the familiar stumbling pattern.

Feeling silent tears pouring down his exhausted face, Matthew curled his arms around his knees as the porch creaked under the weight of a single infected body. A growl sounded just outside the door, and Matthew choked with fear as the thing slammed a fist against the door with a groan. Too afraid to move, Matthew held his breath as the thing moved past one of the windows by the door, its decaying body visible through the sheer curtains.

A man, standing at nearly six feet five inches tall with limited visible damage to his person, lifted a hand to the glass and hissed. Matthew's lungs burned from lack of oxygen as the creature's hand brushed against the silvery screen and left a long bloody streak across the surface.

Groaning, the infected turned away while Matthew strained to keep holding his breath. The beast moved away, just as Matthew let a gasp of air fill his lungs. Crying silently in terror Matthew waited a full hour, struggling to stay conscious while the infected staggered by the house achingly slow.

After what seemed like an eternity the day was silent.

~X~

The house he had taken refuge inside was a two story that had not seen any of the raiding or destruction the rest of the houses in the area had endured: none of the furniture had been moved, the floors were clear of debris, and all of the original occupant's knickknacks were still situated on their shelves. To his delight, the only blood he saw was on the front door and the blood now dripping onto the ground from his leg.

It was comforting how clean and normal the house was. He felt as if he was visiting the home of a close friend or Grandparent, not hiding from flesh eating murderers, in the surprisingly detached home.

Gradually his heart rate decreased as he lay up against the door. The sun was high overhead, letting him know he had been sitting for nearly three hours straight, and still he hadn't heard any infected. None of them had seen him through any of the windows or smelt him. He wondered if that was because he already had the lingering scent of death on him.

Deciding it was safe to move again, Matthew shook his haze filled his head and stood up gripping the door for support. He was on his own now; there was no turning back to the group for help. Stiffly he staggered further into the chilly house, locating stairs that led to what he assumed to be the bedrooms.

They were old and wooden, with a carved rail that resembled flowers and vines, a design similar to the one that his father had spent so long carving into Matthew's door frame when he was little.

The same doorframe torn apart by his mother when she turned.

The thought of his past family brought the tears rushing back to his eyes. He wished he had a way to tell his father he was still okay. That he had a way to tell Francis that he was alive and well.

_Stop that…you can't think about that now. You're on your own, and need to worry about what YOU are going to do to get out of here._ He reminded himself harshly, forcing his legs to pull him further up the stairs.

It wasn't long before he found a bathroom where he planned to tend to his wounds. He pushed the door open slowly and was satisfied to find nothing to hint at any life in the room.

He shut the door and locked it after assuring that he was alone. Lifting a hamper still full of some unknown family's clothes, he shoved tucked it under the door knob. It wouldn't do much to stop anyone but it certainly would make it harder to open the doors. If the infected found their way into house somehow, he would have a bit more time to prepare himself.

Checking to make sure there was no windows in the small room that would alert any lingering infected to his presence, he searched for some sort of light source.

Surprisingly enough, the ceiling light flared to life the moment he flicked the switch. Tino had told him that the houses were powered mostly by the nearby water powered generators that it would keep the houses powered for a year at least without human intervention, but he hadn't believed him.

Pleasantly astonished, and with no further interruptions that he could spot, Matthew began to focus on the lacerations that trailed themselves across his ankle and abdomen.

Matthew frantically scavenged under the shelves and in the cabinets to find any sort of medicine kit. He came out victorious with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a pair of tweezers he found in a woman's makeup pouch, and several wash cloths which he placed in the sink that was now filled with water.

Once assured that the wounds on his stomach were not pressing, he sanitized the tweezers and yanked off his shoe to focus on his ankle. Removing blood stained sock he winced as the rawness of the wound. Grumbling to himself he started the water in the bathtub, plugged the drain, and put his foot under the torrent.

Only by biting onto his lips was he able to keep a yowl of pain from escaping from his throat when the water sent waves of pain searing up his leg. Yanking his foot from the water, he flicked off the torrent and began to situate himself on top of the toilet lid to investigate the wound that would tell him if he was going to become one of the walking dead himself within a matter of hours.

Pulling his foot up so he could see the wound, he shakily clutched the tweezers before feeling a wave of bile raise in his throat. Scrambling to push back the feeling he blinked repeatedly, clearing up enough of his vision so he could attempt to focus on his leg once again.

Within the mangled gory and oozing sections of his gash he spotted a shimmer. Curious, he reached forward and pulled the piece out of its gruesome captivity. It slid out slowly, causing another wave of nausea through him. Gagging he fell forward, his glasses tumbling from his nose and onto the ground as he vomited violently into a trashcan next to the toilet.

Sitting up shakily, stars appeared before his eyes, rendering him unable to as focus on whatever he held in his shuddering grasp. Gripping the side of the sink with a trembling hand he squinted to see what was there. Without his glasses, this seemed to be nearly impossible. Still, he held it up to examine it.

"A tooth?" He whispered, not believing what he was seeing. The yellow and crimson tinted tooth was squeezed firmly between the metal claws of the tweezers as he chucked both of the objects into the sink in disbelief.

He couldn't be bit. There was no way.

There was no way he was holding his own death sentence in his hand.

Tears of disbelief began to drip down his face bitterly. Agony welled up in his chest as he slumped to the ground with a stifled wail.

Within hours, he was going to be the same sort of monster he had seen tearing apart his friends and family. The same sort of monster he had been killing for weeks.

"NO!" He sobbed openly. How was it he could fight so hard, get so far, only to die alone and afraid in a stranger's house? It couldn't be right, it wasn't fair. Standing he hobbled to the sink once more, determined to destroy the tooth that was to be his downfall.

He stuck his hand in the water, attempting to reach the accursed item once again. Squeaking in surprise, he felt a sudden sharp pain in his finger and quickly withdrew his hand.

Teeth weren't that sharp…at least not without force behind them.

Balancing on his good leg he reached back into the sink, this time actually paying attention to what he was doing.

Withdrawing the object with a frown Matthew placed the now multicolored object onto his palm, and leaning over snatched his glasses from the ground and placed them on his face.

Frowning as he turned the object over in his grasp. A shard of glass shone back at him brightly, glistening gold and pure white in the light. The wound hadn't been caused by a bite, but by the glass that had been broken for their escape.

He wasn't bit…

He was going to live.

~X~

Whomever had lived in the house before him was a bit larger then he was, and taller. But he made do with the clothes that he had found. Replacing his raged sweatshirt with a well-used hand knit sweater, his blood stained shirt with a long sleeved black shirt and a big fluffy red jacket with a maple leaf in the middle that reminded him of where he grew up in Canada. He also replaced his torn snow pants with a pair he was sure belonged to the woman of the house. They fit quite well in comparison to the man's which he found to be a bit embarrassing, but with no one around to tease him he felt there was no reason not to take them.

The bed that was in the master bedroom was insanely comfortable compared to anything he had ever slept on in the past few weeks. Perhaps it was the exhaustion talking but he was sure that this was the best bed he had ever slept on in general.

Falling unconscious nearly instantly he dreamed of what the others would be doing now without him.

Hopefully Alfred made it out of the city with Antonio safe and sound. He hoped that they had found Elizabeta and Gilbert perfectly fine and that they had gotten back to the Humvee without complications. Maybe papa would cry for him for a while, but then he would be strong and get through the infection. Alfred wouldn't blame himself for this either, he knew that deep down, it wasn't his fault that Matthew went last and that the glass had hit his ankle just right so it would tear his leg.

Alfred would be fine. Antonio would fit in great with the group and help everyone survive. Papa would be happy soon. He would he okay even after his 'death' and no one would blame anything on anyone.

Yeah, that's what would happen.

A smile graced his lips as he slept. A sweet smile that he hadn't had since any of this began: a smile that held actual happiness.

Silently, Matthew prayed that he would be the last sacrifice that the group had to give for everyone to stay alive.

~X~

Footsteps.

Footsteps drove him out of his sleep. Not just one pair. Two? Three? Three pairs of footsteps.

Matthew's eyes shot open to make sure what he heard was real.

Sure enough, the soft sound of footsteps coming up the stairs creaked into the bed room.

The infected had gotten in without as much as a shatter of glass or the busting down of a door. Somehow they had found him without him making a single sound. But how?

He rolled off the mattress, away from the door and hid under the king sized bed as the footsteps continued, his breathing coming in panicked desperate gasps.

Listening closely, he could tell that the steps weren't the sloppy and uneven limps of an infected: they were strong and cautious. Clenching his eyes closed he came to the conclusion that it was either a group of people or a group of infected that had absolutely no injuries to hinder them.

The door opened.

Could zombies open doors?

There was murmuring between the three pairs of snow boots that now came into view.

Could zombies talk?

"Hello?" One of them asked, Matthew opened his mouth to reply but heard the cocking of a gun.

His mouth snapped shut without further noise.

"'Ello?" Another voice asked and stepped in, "There any creepity-crawlities in here?" Matthew shook his head attempting to find out whether to talk to these people or to stay silent. Suddenly a face swung down from above the bed and looked underneath, "CREEPITY-CRAWLITY!" The man screamed his brown eyes widening in fear. This was do or die now.

"NO!" Matthew screamed as a gun swung down to his face, "I'm not infected!" He yelled, "I'm human!" Matthew screamed once again wiggling in a mad attempt to scramble out from under the bed.

"Are you bit?" A shrill male's voice demanded, "You better tell me."

"Hurry up." Another strict but deep voice snapped.

"No!" He repeated, "Not bit!" A hand tan calloused hand swung down, waiting expectantly for Matthew to grab hold.

"You aren't a creepity-crawlity then what are you doing under the bed?" The man who had called him a 'creepity-crawlity', demanded hoisting Matthew up and out of the bed with one quick tug.

Panicking, Matthew was pulled into the sight of the three men that had entered the house, unarmed and surrounded.

"I was hiding from you. I thought you were infected." He stammered, freaking slightly "I was separated from my group because when we were escaping I got glass in my leg and I thought that it was bit. BUT I WAS WRONG!" He quickly wailed when a man with chin length blond hair hoisted a gun up to his head, "It was just glass, but I didn't know then. So I told them to go on while I distracted the infected. I had just gotten away from them when I found this house." He squeaked out, his hands shuddering at his sides.

The men stared at him a moment, their eyes calculating to see if they could trust him.

"You forgot to lock the back door…that was sloppy, mistake like that could get you killed." The blond snapped tapping his foot irately against the floor. "Okay whatever, so it was you that got the blood all over the bathroom then right?" Matthew nodded, slowly, cursing himself for leaving the door unlocked even in his dizzy state.

"To get the glass out of my foot." He insisted, his eyes focused in on the gun in the men's hands.

"All the bloody clothes?" The blonde demanded once more. "That was a lot of blood for a cut on the foot." He scowled, eyeing Matthew with a distrusting glare.

"I fought my way out of a horde of zombies using a hockey stick and a hand gun." He snapped, irritated that they couldn't deduce that much. "I don't think I was going to come out of there smelling like daisies." He grunted angrily.

"Watch your tone." The shorter brunette with a mole ordered, irritated that Matthew would speak so harshly.

"Leave it be Roderick." The blond sighed, rubbing his temples. "Ok, I'll believe you for now boy, but I'll want a look at these injuries of yours." Matthew grumbled to himself and lifted up his leg to display his ankle, unwinding the bandages quickly. Examining it closely the blonde turned to the snooty brunette who shook his head once he scanned over the injury.

"Any others?" The brunette demanded. Matthew sighed, and after stripping down to his underwear, was dubbed clean of bites. Muttering angrily to himself, Matthew redressed, waiting while the three men discussed quietly amongst themselves.

It was the brown haired man that had called the infected, _Creepity-Crawlities _that turned to Matthew after a long conversation.

"You should come with us." He beamed at Matthew who stared back at him in disbelief.

"Really?"

"Always looking for more people to bring with us, mate!" The big man grinned, the bandage running across his nose wrinkling as he grinned. "But who are you?" He asked.

"My name's Matthew." He stammered, extending a hand for the man to shake. Happily the man accepted.

"I'm Ausie, that's Vash, don't mind him he's just never happy when we're dealing with creepy crawlies, and that's Roderick." Ausie cheered happily.

"Alright, do we have this settled?" Vash snapped, peering out the window unhappily. "We've got to be back by dark, remember? Let's get what we can from this joint and head back." He ordered, slinging his gun over his shoulder.

"Back? Back where?" Matthew demanded.

"Back home silly. We were just out scavenging for supplies and saw that your group had cleared out Helena pretty well so we'd thought we'd see what goodies were stored in here!" Ausie explained as if it was obvious.

"Home?" Matthew's eyebrows rose noticeably.

"Yep, our home base, main fort, the location of our habitation!" Ausie laughed happily.

"You mean that you guys actually have…" Matthew whispered in shock.

"Somewhere safe? Yeah. It's in a small town about half an hour from here called Thompson Falls. There's about a hundred of us there, pretty well surrounded by the river so it's got a natural barricade against the zombies. You mean you guys haven't heard about it?" Vash demanded, raising an eyebrow.

Matthew shook his head in disbelief.

"Then where were you headed? I mean I saw your Humvee and figured you had some sort of plan." Roderick's tone was curious.

"We were going to head through Canada…get to the coast." Matthew explained. Too his concern, the three men exchanged what appeared to be worried glances.

** In case you didn't get the hints…Ausie is Australia. **

**Matthew…is ALIVE! He's safe for now, but what'll the world of the dead have in store for the rest of the survivors? Review and let me know what **_**YOU**_** think is going to happen! **


	16. A Secret Forcefully Revealed

***Le Gasp!* I forgot to warn you in the last chapter! Who knows how mentally scarred you are now. I'm so sorry! Here…I'll warn you in this chapter instead. **

**Warning: Blood, gore, and angst.**

Iain didn't feel too hot. He hadn't felt hot for days.

His face felt like it was on fire, making every inch of his frame feel as if it was about to fall apart at the slightest touch. The infection gnawing at his bones was enough to send violent shivers radiating through his body. It was the shivers that he had to work the hardest to keep the others from noticing. A task he found daunting in the relatively cramped conditions of the Humvee.

Oh he knew he was sick, most likely dangerously so, but he would never openly admit any sort of weakness to his companions. Instead, he would just soldier through until it went away on its own, just like he had always done.

It was only a few hours before Alfred and the others were preparing to enter Helena that Iain realized that his illness wasn't simply fading as he expected. Each hour since their raid on Tino's house, the pain increased until gradually his chest felt as though it was about to collapse under its own weight.

Slowly, like a log slowly catching fire, his body was starting to feel the strain associated with ignoring illness: He found it harder to stay awake for long periods and every time he stood he felt as though the world had come off its hinges as it swam in front of his eyes.

He wasn't just sick…he felt like he was dying.

Leaning up against the back window of the Humvee, Iain stared out into the tree line, ignoring his companions' conversations. He felt nauseous, but knew if he hurled then Arthur and the rest would probably assume something was wrong.

Something was tapping against his legs, frustrated when after a while the annoyance didn't stop, he found himself looking down at his lap. Wincing he realized that it was his own hands that were shaking violently against his thighs without permission from him. Muttering to himself, he pulled his jacket further around his form.

Closing his eyes in hope to get a little rest, he growled when after only a few moments of piece, the gargantuan vehicle lurched to a halt, jarring his form against the steel walls.

"What's up Ludwig?" Alfred demanded from across the Humvee.

"We got to move these cars." Ludwig snapped from his place in the driver's seat, pulling to a stop directly before a car choked section of the otherwise clear highway. Iain's head snapped up from his nap in irritation. "We can't just plow them over." He insisted when Alfred simply stared at him.

"You're right…sorry I was just out of it I suppose." Alfred muttered turning and ordering the group to get up and to move into the snow filled roads before them. Iain, groaning angrily as he stood awkwardly, followed after the group.

Muttering and moaning the group shifted stiffly into the road, within a few moments everyone was up and working on pushing the charred out cars out of the way of the Humvee.

Alfred opened the door of one of the larger vehicles, placing the rusted out thing into neutral before waving at Arthur and Iain to help him move the car. Grudgingly, Iain pretended to be doing his share, but was actually allowing Arthur and Alfred to do most of the shoving.

The car lurched off the road with a groan of gears and partially melted tires. As the weight disappeared Iain straightened and swearing stepped back, his gaze fading out for a moment when his heart rate rose raggedly.

"Iain…are you alright?" Arthur demanded moving around the edge of the car to reach his brother's side. Iain nodded sharply, rubbing in eyes in a vain attempt to clear them.

"I just got something in my…" He paused, catching something moving out of the corner of his eye. "Arthur!" He yelped as a scab coated arm lashed out from under one of the cars they hadn't investigated thoroughly.

Alarmed at his outburst, Arthur turned with a cry as the infected's gnarled skinless fingertips wrapped around his ankle. Yanking back, Arthur screamed as his knees hit the back of the rail bordering the edge of the highway.

Iain really didn't have time to think as the infected scrambled upwards and Arthur continued to fall backwards towards the rocky ledge below. The infected's teeth were about to clamp around Arthur's calf when he forced his body to react.

Kicking the infected in the jaw sending blood splattering across the snow, Iain snagged onto Arthur as he fell. Tumbling backwards in the direction of the ice coated hill, Iain wrapped himself around his brother and prepared for the worse.

As they fell, Iain realized to his relief that the fall wasn't as steep as he once believed, sloping less harshly towards the rocky shores of the river than a direct fall would have been.

Hitting the ground with a crunch he felt the stiches on his chest tear open with a terrible ripping sound. Grunting in pain, he found himself sliding backwards rolling down the hill towards the river below.

Skin gashed open against the ground. Shards of rocks embedded into his flesh. The agony in his chest boiled to a new high as they skidded across the ground roughly.

Striking into a bush full of stickers and thorns Iain felt Arthur being torn from his grasp, but could do nothing to stop his own progression.

Gasping he curled into a ball as he continued to tumble mercilessly along with uneven slope.

With a crack, he rammed into the rocky shores of the river.

Too shocked to cry out despite the swords of pain being jabbed into his core, Iain felt every ache and pain he had endured for the past week implode within him with a new agony he had never undergone before.

As suddenly as it came, the pain began to fade.

Blinking, he felt water trickling underneath him soaking through the layers of his clothes as he sprawled in the gravelly sand as he slowly began to register his surroundings.

His ears were ringing, leaving him feeling nauseous and dazed. Distantly, he could hear someone calling his name. For a second, he believed he might be able to respond, but his throat constricted in on itself agonizingly. Instead he hacked weakly.

Above him the tree line was beginning to fade, the sky rimmed with too much black for a midday sun.

Why couldn't he move?

"Iain!" Elizabeta's scream barely registered as she slid to his side, heaving him out of the frigid water. "Iain… oh God…Damn it the stitches!" Elizabeta cursed, her fingers fumbling as she struggled open Iain's ragged jacket. Iain stared up at her blankly, not understanding the panic, numbness spreading across his body as if mixed in with his blood. "Stay with me Iain." Elizabeta ordered wiping something from his cheek with a gloved hand. "Feliciano! Tino! Help!" Elizabeta wailed as the remainder of the group rushed over to see what was causing the woman so much distress.

"What's wrong…Iain!" Arthur cried harshly as he dove to his brother's side, grabbing him away from Elizabeta and moving him onto his lap.

Studying his brother with vision that was slowly fading to black, Iain spotted a deep gash spreading across Arthur's cheek and frowned. His fingers twitched as he fought to lift his hand.

"H…H…" He attempted to demand if Arthur was alright, but words he found, were very difficult to form with his throat tightening.

"His chest…I should have…" Elizabeta cut off as she pulled back Iain's shirt to reveal the blood drenched disaster underneath. Iain watched with a wince as Arthur's eyes slowly began to widen in horror. "He didn't want you to worry." She whispered, Arthur sat back in shock, his eyes flashing down to Iain's.

Dazed and exhausted, Iain grinned up at him and slowly allowed his eyes to shut.

~X~

When Iain woke, it was with new stiches and something freezing pressing his forehead.

Irritated, he attempted to swat at it but found his limbs distressingly unresponsive. Grumbling mentally, he instead turned to focus on his surroundings. As he reverted his attention elsewhere, a sigh filled the air and the object on his head was removed.

"Burning up on top of it." Feliciano's voice added into some conversation Iain hadn't heard.

"Vomiting, fever, coughing…is there any blood when he coughs?" Tino's voice demanded,

_Vomiting? Who's vomiting?_

Struggling, Iain endeavored to open his eyes, finding quickly that his eyes were just as unresponsive as his limbs. After a few moments and with a great deal of effort he managed to barely crack open one eye, and found that his efforts were not meant to be rewarded as the light sent spikes of pain through his brain.

Moaning he sealed his eye once again, resting a bit before he was finally able to crack an eye open without suffering. But, once again…he wished he hadn't.

For some unfathomable reason, his head was on the Italian's lap. Besides that point, which he was whole heartedly against, he realized that he was surrounded by quarreling idiots.

His gaze was fuzzy enough that he couldn't quite make out the faces of those around him, but he heard their voices loud and clear.

Grumbling, he sealed his eyes and focused his miserable efforts on listening to the painfully loud conversation.

"…just find somewhere SAFE." Arthur was bellowing. "Someplace that we can _hold_ for a little bit while Iain recovers!"

_So he's alive…that's good. What the hell is he so worried about? I'm going to be fine…it's just a few scratches._ Iain thought angrily, his fingers twitching in irritation at not being able to speak.

"Why can't we just stay in one place for a few days, maybe a week or two? Hell, maybe we could stay there!" Tino chipped in, sounding peeved.

"Why stop?" Gilbert snapped, "He's fine."

_Oh you Asshole…_ Iain thought angrily, wanting to reach across and smack the man, but not finding the energy required for such an action.

"He needs medical treatment!" Elizabeta argued her voice cracking.

"You have me." Feliciano put in, sounding pitiful as usual.

"Damn it, I miss Kiku." Alfred grumbled, almost incoherently from the front seat.

"What's wrong with me?" Feliciano demanded angrily.

"Shh Feli." Ludwig ordered, "Let's not bring anyone we don't have into the conversation!" Ludwig snapped back at Alfred.

"Let's just keep going until we find something safe." Arthur repeated, sounding tired and strained.

"Yeah, come on. We need to stop. If we don't…I'm pretty sure Iain isn't going to last more than a couple days, let alone the time it would take us to get to the coast." Alfred put in matter-of-factly.

_Me? Not last a couple more days? I ain't dying or anything._

"Guys, be optimistic! Why can't you just get along for once?" The rumble of Feliciano's voice pleaded against Iain's ears.

"Well I'm being realistic, if we stop…okay think of it this way, Ludwig which is harder to hit?" Gilbert began, "A moving target or a stationary one?" Iain furrowed his eyebrows as Ludwig sighed.

_When I can stand up again, Gilbert, I'm going to kick your ass so hard your legs will be sticking out your mouth. _

"Which base is easier to defend?" Ludwig finally responded. Gilbert huffed irately but said nothing and for once Iain didn't want to beat Ludwig.

"Then it's settled." Alfred decided, "We're stopping." That was it, they were going to stop, but they were stopping for him, and that made him mad. He never wanted to be a burden on anyone, and now he was one that was going to hinder their movements for days.

Maybe he should kill Gilbert or something, make them stop for someone that wasn't him. No, then they'd probably kill him too. He tried forcing himself sitting up,

"Don't stop." He couldn't believe his own words as they spouted from his mouth.

"Keep an eye out." Alfred nodded, oh, so he hadn't said anything after all. Good. "Maybe we can stop at a farm house or something." Alfred announced. With a chorus of approval the group began looking through the windows to find anywhere that they could possibly stay.

Iain on the other hand, felt unconsciousness reclaiming him.

~X~

_It isn't possible_. Arthur choked as he ran a shuddering hand through his brother's sweat dampened hair. _How can this be happening? _He never once believed that Iain could get sick. He once assumed his stubborn brother didn't even know how to be ill.

Growing up, when Arthur and the rest of their family had gotten a flu, Iain would be the only one up and around without even a sniffle. Their mother always claimed that it was his pigheadedness that had kept him healthy.

Despite that here Iain was, weaker than a newborn kitten and to Arthur's horror, slowly fading away in his arms.

They had nothing to treat him with; Tino already explained to the hysterical Brit that they didn't have the antibiotics necessary to treat an infection as far along as Iain's. Without the antibiotics, and given the severity of the wounds, Feliciano gave his brother a few days.

Already, Iain's skin was strained and ashen, his lips cracked and bleeding as the fever ravaged his body. He was in amounts of pain Arthur couldn't even comprehend, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched as his eyes flicked restlessly under his eyelids.

Arthur felt a tear slip from his eye as he pulled his brother closer, the liquid landing with a splash on Iain's cheek.

"How's he holding up?" A hand landed on his shoulder. Arthur didn't bother to look up; he felt no necessity in answering Alfred, or anyone else sharing the small space in the Humvee with him. "We're looking for a place to stay…he's going to be alright Arthur." Alfred attempted, sitting down next to Arthur and patting his knee. Again he was ignored by the Englishman. "There wasn't anything you could have done…" Arthur scowled up at him angrily, but remained silent nevertheless. "Arthur please…please don't ignore me." Alfred begged. Arthur responded by shifting away from Alfred's touch, his eyes not lifting from his brother's face.

Alfred sighed miserably, giving up his efforts to comfort the man as he moved away and into the front seat of the Humvee without another word.

"This is all going to hell..." He groaned once in the seat next to Gilbert. The albino looked up at him with an understanding look on his face.

"Think of it this way, Alfred." Gilbert sighed leaning back in his chair with a sigh, his eyes trained on the dim road before him. "We might not be in the best shape…" He acknowledged, his bandaged hand glaring back at Alfred like another painful reminder of his failures. "But we're alive aren't we?" Alfred didn't look to terribly convinced so Gilbert continued. "Alfred…if not for you I'm pretty sure we would have all died by now. Tino wouldn't be in the group, neither would Antonio. Do you think they were going to survive much longer in their makeshift shelters?" Alfred shook his head glumly. "You're the one who was brave enough to take those risks, and you got results because of it. Do you remember that rickety old fire escape? I might be crazy…but there was no way in hell I would have tested that thing first." Alfred grinned slightly at this.

"But, we've lost so many people…" Gilbert groaned. Reaching out with his good hand he smacked Alfred upside the head.

"Ok Kiddo, we've been through this already. Yeah we've lost people, but how the hell was it your fault?" The albino snapped angrily, his eyes narrowing. "Stop it with the pity party already! That frown makes you look ugly." Alfred stared back at him, stunned. Gilbert lifted his hand threateningly, his eyes daring Alfred to attempt to blame himself one more time.

Alfred hesitated, but after a moment began to laugh. Gilbert smirked at the man's reaction, lowering his hand back to the steering wheel.

"Now get back there and get some sleep, you're over tired and overworked…someone else can stay up with me for a while." The albino insisted, waving the man towards the backseat. Alfred nodded in agreement sleepily, once again moving into the back seat.

"I'll trade with you, amigo." Antonio suggested, piping up from the corner of the Humvee where he had made himself as small as possible, struggling to keep as far away from people as he could. Sleepily, Alfred nodded, sitting on the bench across from Arthur and leaning up against Elizabeta's shoulder.

Giddily, Antonio scrambled into the front seat.

"Why are you so happy to get out of the back?" Gilbert chuckled as the Spaniard clicked his seatbelt into place. The man beamed eagerly, shooting a glance behind him nervously. "What? Too cramped in there for you?" Antonio shook his head, leaning over he whispered.

"Francis…he scares me." Gilbert snorted at this, rolling his eyes at the idea of Francis being scary.

"Don't mind him…he's harmless." Gilbert's words didn't sway Antonio's opinion, but he didn't bring up an argument so Gilbert turned back to the road. "Alright then, you said you lived in Helena…do you know any places we can camp out for a bit?" Antonio bit his lip nervously; obviously he had never taken much thought into other safe places than his church.

"The next town…if we're headed North on this road will be Augusta, I believe." He mumbled. "There should be some houses between here and there, since we'll be passing close to Great Falls."

"Great Falls?" Gilbert questioned.

"Other than Billings and maybe Missoula, it's one of the largest cities in Montana." He admitted with a shrug. Gilbert sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"We'll be avoiding that area then…that's a few too many zombies for my liking." Antonio bobbed his head in eager agreement. "Well…keep an eye out little man; we'll see if we can find a new place to stay before dawn."

~X~

Antonio kept his eyes trained out the windows until nearly dawn, seeing nothing but the occasional burnt out farm house. Apparently nothing in the area had been spared from the zombies staggering along the roadways.

The sight of so many of the demonios made him anxious, a feeling he didn't enjoy. Holding his cross up to his lips when he spotted a small group of infected children devouring a mountain goat with their bare hands, he said a quick prayer for his new companion's safety.

It was about three miles past the demonic children that he spotted it. He wasn't sure what it was at first only that whatever it was, it had a light source radiating from it. Frowning Antonio strained to get a better look, tugging on Gilbert's shirt as he did.

"¡Mira! Look!" He corrected himself. Confused, Gilbert looked towards Antonio's window following Antonio's excitedly pointing finger.

"What? I don't see…WOAH!" Antonio had grabbed the wheel, jerking it so roughly that Gilbert had no choice but to slam on his breaks. "You're crazy!" Gilbert roared as the rest of the group chorused out wails of distress.

"Si." Antonio grinned, believing that fact had already been established. "I found a place to stay!" He explained when Alfred poked his head through the space between the two groggily.

"Really? Where?" Alfred demanded excitedly.

"You couldn't have just TOLD me?" Gilbert growled running his hand through his silvery hair, flabbergasted.

"Over there! I saw a light in the house up the hill a bit. Well…it looked like a house, it's hard to tell in the…" Antonio didn't have time to finish his explanation; Alfred was already clambering for the turret to get a better look with Tino's binoculars.

"The crazy guy's right. There's definitely a house up there, and if I'm correct there might also be…nah that can't be right." Alfred shook his head, handing the binoculars to Tino as the Finn scrambled onto the roof alongside him.

"What can't be right?" Tino demanded, holding up the binoculars to his own eyes and scowling towards the tree line with a calculating gaze.

"I thought I saw someone loading up a car…like a person." Alfred admitted, shrugging his shoulders. After a moment Tino responded.

"Persons, not person. You were right Alfred. From here I can see at least…" He broke off, examining the scene closely. "Six people moving in and out of the house."

"Infected?" Alfred demanded.

"They don't move like the infected but I'll be the first to admit that those things can still move pretty humanlike from a distance." Tino admitted as he slung the binoculars around his neck.

"Is it worth the risk? What if they aren't friendly?" Alfred followed after Tino as he moved back into the Humvee. Sighing the Finn took a look over his shoulder.

"I've taken two risks at two different times with strangers. The first time I lost a family, the second time I got one back. I'd say your chances are fifty-fifty. Of course I'd say in the situation we're in it would be worth the risk, but I'm not the boss here Alfred, you are." Tino grunted, taking an empty seat next to Feliciano and staring up at the boy expectantly. "Take your pick, do we take a chance or do we keep going and hope we find somewhere else before we hit Augusta?" Alfred grimaced at the choice, biting his lip as he stared at each of the faces in the small space.

"Guys?" He sighed, wanting another opinion after the resent disaster at Helena.

"We're behind whatever decision you make Alfred." Elizabeta smiled encouragingly. It wasn't the reply Alfred was looking for, but it would have to do.

"Gilbert," He sighed, turning back to where the German was staring back at him expectantly. "Take us to that house." He ordered, sitting next to Arthur with a final nod.

"Sure thing, Jones." Gilbert chuckled, wheeling the monstrous vehicle around and back towards house gawking back at them from amongst the trees.

**Review and you all get free whales. Yes. I don't know what you'll do with them but you get them. Oh…and cake! You get cake too. **


	17. Pulling Out The Threads of Trust

The only road leading up to the house was dirt, and was so full of pot holes and decaying corpses that Gilbert was forced to drive at a crawl. Behind him the group watched nervously over his shoulder as the barricaded home sluggishly crept into view.

"This is just downright creepy…maybe we should wait for morning." Ludwig grumbled, shooting nervous glances through the dense foliage in search of the eyes he felt were following them.

"Don't be a wuss…unless they have a freaking missile launcher in this place I'm pretty sure we're safe inside the Humvee." Tino's mutter was barely audible over the sound of the Humvee rolling across the uneven road.

"Well we might be in trouble if we have to get out of the Humvee…" Gilbert sighed, as the Humvee pulled to a stop just outside of a massive gate that marked the beginning of the driveway. Up ahead they could see people watching them from the front porch of the house. "How do we know if they're friendly?" Gilbert demanded as one of the men on the porch lifted a hand in greeting, his other hand rested on a gun that Gilbert was sure was of the same caliber as the military weapons they had in their own possession.

"We don't." Alfred spoke as he swung open the door, his gun strapped over his back and his hands held up to show he meant no harm to the occupants of the small fortress. The group cried after him, panicked that he would put himself in a position that left him so unprotected.

The silence that filled the air as they held their breath was deafening. Slowly, the man on the porch began to approach the gate, his hand on a holstered pistol at his side.

"That guy is huge!" Elizabeta hissed to Gilbert who had his gaze focused on the massive man as he approached. Gilbert merely nodded, his hand flicking over the pistol at his side.

Alfred felt a chill run down his spine as he watched the man approach. Standing nearly half a foot taller than him, the stranger had broad shoulders made even wider by his massive winter coat. Alfred could barely make out his features in the dark, but he could tell that the man had a facial structure to go along with his frame: huge and strong.

"_Privet_ stranger…what is your business here?" The man demanded in a heavy Russian accent that Alfred had to struggle to decipher.

"I um…oh! We saw your lights from the road, and to put it bluntly we were hoping you had someplace for us to bunk for a few days so we can take care of our injured." Alfred explained as clearly as he could.

"We do not take in outsiders." The man snapped firmly, his hand not moving from his weapon. Alfred felt his hope collapse as he shot a look back at the Humvee were he could see his companion's hopeful worried faces staring back at him. Steeling himself, he tried again.

"We're not looking for charity, we have food and supplies that will last us long enough, but you gotta let us stay even if it's in a barn or just outside….God damn it, if you don't then one of my guys is going to die." Alfred pleaded his eyes wide and hopeful as he attempted to stare down the towering man in front of him. The Russian hesitated, obviously seriously thinking about his answer.

"And if I chose not to allow it? What will you do?" Alfred felt his heart sink; sighing shakily he lowered his gaze.

"Then we'll move on." He admitted, letting his arms hang limp at his sides. "We're not a threat to you, and if you feel that you can't take us in…then I'll understand. I recognize you've got your own family to think about and I know what it would mean to even consider taking in a group of strangers." The Russian nodded, his shadowed gaze unwavering as he examined Alfred curiously.

"You are a strange little man…I can see that." He pointed out, his gun resting a bit more laxly in his hands. "I like you…what is your name, boy?" Alfred attempted not to flinch at being called a boy as he grinned.

"My names Alfred…Alfred F. Jones, sir." The man seemed satisfied with the answer as he leaned back on his heels.

"A pleasure to be meeting you, my name is Ivan Braginski." The man grinned childishly back, extending his hand through the grate of the fence for Alfred to shake. Alfred nervously accepted, flinching when he found that the look in Ivan's eyes told him that if he tried anything, Ivan would be wearing his skin for a hat.

The handshake was not painful as Alfred expected, merely strong enough for Ivan to test what he might be up against. Whatever he was looking for as he examined Alfred he must have found because once the man let go he was smiling like a loon.

"Alright Mr. Jones, I will allow you to enter my land on two conditions." Ivan lifted two gloved fingers up to his face, grinning at Alfred's quizzical look. Raising an eyebrow, Alfred crossed his arms across his chest to ward off the subzero temperatures nipping at his hands.

"Sounds fair enough…what are your conditions?" He demanded hope rising slowly, but cautiously.

"You must allow me to examine each one of you for wounds that may be bites, especially the man you claim will die if I do not give you entrance. I will not be pleased if I have to end up blasting someone in the head tonight." He explained, lowering one of his fingers. Alfred nodded, a bit nervous given the condition of Iain's wounds.

"And your second condition?" Ivan chuckled and moved his hand down again.

"You will give us a portion of your supplies as payment for allowing you to stay." Alfred wanted to scream, the supplies they had were meager to say the least, barely enough to feed the numbers they had for a few days, let alone the members of Ivan's gang. "I see the look on your face, and don't worry I will not be taking all of your food, just enough to fill the patches in our own supply. I believe this is a fair trade giving the circumstances…after all you did say that there were lives on the line didn't you Mr. Jones?" Alfred sighed, defeated. He had no choice but to agree, it was food or Iain's life.

"Alright, I agree to your terms." Ivan smiled happily, his eyes sparkling in the glow of the headlights.

"Then please…do come in."

~X~

The inside of Ivan's barn was large enough to keep their Humvee inside and still have room for them to sleep in relative comfort. There were spaces where livestock had stayed once, but at the beginning of the infection had been slaughtered to avoid giving the small colony's location away to the infected.

From what Tino had seen during their movement through the makeshift camp, Ivan's group easily consisted of thirty people all of whom had managed to fit comfortably inside a massive farm house that Ivan explained he owned long before the infection began. Their numbers so greatly outnumbered their tiny company that Tino was worried his own group would be cast out in the cold the moment their belongings had been stolen from them. Keeping his own possessions as close as possible, he nervously allowed Ivan's second in command examine him for wounds.

Yao, the man who was in charge when Ivan was otherwise occupied, was in every way Ivan's opposite.

Loud and abrasive, Yao obviously wanted them gone as soon as possible. Glaring at them with sparking brown eyes he watched each of them closely, clearing expecting them to attempt to attack at any point. He conducted his exam of each member of the group mercilessly.

Tino understood the man's wariness: he had been distrustful too when he had a son to look out for.

Feelings of jealousy and grief welled up in his chest as he spotted two little boys peering out from behind Yao's bright red jacket nervously. The older of the two boys was about 10, but the younger, who was closer to 8, was the same age his Peter had been. Both had big doe like eyes and hair the color of a raven's feathers, and both were obviously healthy and even happy in their safe little compound. Each time Yao shot the boys an adoring look, Tino felt as his own heart die a little more.

"Are you alright?" Antonio's whisper was enough to draw his attention away from the trio. Turning to face the Spaniard who flinched when he saw the Finn was frowning, Tino attempted a smile.

"Of…of course." He croaked, wiping his eye with his sleeve. Shaking his head, Antonio bit his lip and looked around quickly before leaning in to whisper:

"You're sad." as if telling a secret.

Tino laughed a bit before responding.

"I suppose I am a bit sad." He admitted, receiving a worried frown from Antonio. "It's nothing though…don't worry about me alright?" Antonio nodded slowly, shooting a look back at where the rest of the group was standing around Iain's unconscious form, arguing over whether or not he was infected.

"Are they going to make us leave?" Antonio's question barely registered in Tino's mind as he watched Arthur's face growing from desperate to livid. "Tino?" Tino jerked back to attention, shooting a look down at Antonio, who had chosen a bale of hay to sit on, and sighed.

"I have no idea." Tino muttered, choosing to sit next to Antonio instead of joining the debate forming across the room. "All I know is that if we don't find a place to stay soon…I don't even want to think of the consequences." Antonio shuddered at the thought, his eyes flicking to Francis who had chosen to sit as far away from others as possible at the very edge of the barn. Tino followed his gaze curiously and frowned. "What's on your mind?" He prodded, noting the apprehensive frown on the Spaniard's face. Antonio shook his head, turning away from Francis he folded his arms over his chest and simply continued to stare over at Arthur and the rest.

Tino sighed at the action, wishing that for once he wasn't as good as he was at reading people's emotions.

"You know…when my son, Peter, didn't want to tell me something he would do the same thing you're doing right now." Tino explained, smiling slightly when Antonio looked over his shoulder at him. "Do you know what I told him to get him to talk?" Tino prodded, receiving a small curious shake of the head from Antonio. "I told him that there's nothing that he can say that would make me hate him…and that it was better for me to find out from him then to find out from his papa later." He winked making Antonio chuckle. Sighing the Spaniard rubbed the back of his neck and turned towards Tino.

"I don't like the way that Francis keeps looking at Alfred…it makes me nervous." He admitted, hoping to get a better response out of him than he received from Gilbert. Tino found himself looking up at Francis who did in fact have his eyes locked on Alfred. "I suppose it might just be the fact I was stuck in a church by myself too long, but he sort of looks like a cat hunting a mouse to me." Tino didn't understand at first, the idea that anyone in their group having a violent air about them astonished him. "So I've been watching him since Iain got sick, that's when I first noticed it. I know it's probably just me overreacting, but I didn't want to end up being wrong and have something bad happen." He stared up at Tino, obviously expecting some sort of out lash from the Finn.

"You're not overreacting." Tino explained after a moment of contemplation. "Keep an eye on him, but don't let anyone else know you're doing it. I don't want Alfred or Francis to find out, and have them confront each other or even worse lash out against you." Antonio nodded, nervously fidgeting with the sleeves of his jacket.

"You know…sometimes I wonder why you're not in charge Tino." Antonio muttered after a moment, shooting a shy glance up at Tino. Tino laughed and patted the boy on the head, disagreeing with a sigh.

"I've never been one to be a leader. When I was with my family, my husband was in charge." Tino pointed out, Antonio frowned.

"Then what did you do?" Antonio demanded, staring up at him inquisitively. Tino paused; he actually had to think about an answer that would satisfy the man's question.

_Why is this kid so good at finding questions that really make me think? _Tino wondered. As if the boy could read his mind, Antonio grinned broadly still waiting for the answer to his question.

"I was supposed to guard my family." Tino admitted sadly, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he placed his face into his palms. "I was the best shot, and even though my husband was nearly half foot taller than me I could knock him down in a fight without breaking a sweat." Antonio nodded sympathetically, patting Tino's arm. "I should have been there…I should have been there when they let those bastards in." Antonio blinked, startled at the revelation. "I…" Tino broke off, his gaze shooting upwards instantly as footsteps began making their way back to them.

"Good news guys!" Alfred beamed, skidding to a halt in front of them. "We can stay! Ivan convinced that Yao guy that as long as we stay in the barn then we won't be a threat to them!" He explained, his eyes glowing with happiness for the first time in days.

"Really? That's great!" Tino cheered, though his eyes were still holding back the tears he had almost let fall.

"We have to sleep in the barn, but Ivan said they'll bring a cot for Iain so he doesn't have to sleep in the Humvee." Alfred explained, practically bouncing with excitement. "We're going to be ok guys!" he laughed patting Tino on the shoulder.

"Do they have antibiotics?" Tino demanded, moving to a standing position. Alfred's face fell immediately. Shaking his head he sighed.

"No…we'll have to go to Augusta and get them ourselves. Ivan said that there's a clinic there that will have everything we need." Tino and Antonio exchanged nervous glances as they nodded for Alfred to continue. "There's only one problem…given Iain's condition and the fact that we'll have to split up again that means that whoever is coming will either have to take the Humvee and leave the others here with no means of escape if something goes wrong, or whoever leaves with me will have to take a boat up the river and walk whatever distance the rest of the way." Tino and Antonio exchanged glances.

"Do we have a boat?" Tino demanded curiously, a pale eyebrow rising slightly. Alfred bobbed his head excitedly.

"Ivan is lending us his, he says that he'll even help us tow it to the river if necessary." This startled Tino immensely, crossing his arms he scowled at Alfred.

"Do you honestly trust that guy enough that you would agree to every suggestion he comes up with?" Tino snapped. Alfred seemed a bit shocked at the angriness in Tino's voice.

"I don't have much choice. If we have to split up I want it to be for as short of a period as I can make it. A boat would make travel a lot easier if the roads are all clogged with debris and burnt out cars." Alfred put in defensively, his gaze steely. Tino twitched noticeably, but said nothing in retort. "We'll talk about it in the morning, for now I think just about everyone would like a good night sleep where we aren't sitting up." Alfred insisted, gesturing for the two to join him where the others were setting up sleeping arrangements. Reluctantly the two followed after him, both exchanging nervous glances.

~X~

She couldn't sleep. Something pried at the back of her mind until she decided it would be better if she just let Arthur, who was on watch, go to bed.

Wiggling out of Gilbert's protective hold with a great deal of effort not to wake him, she stood and stretched. Turning back to where Gilbert still slept, she giggled softly when she noticed he was probing around the spot she had been laying. Startled when he found nothing, he sat up abruptly.

His eyes were blurry with sleep, and his hair so full of straw that she had to stuff her fist in her mouth to stop the laugh from escaping.

"Go back to sleep…I'm just taking over watch." She explained when he raised a questioning eyebrow, pulling strands of hay from his hair. Sighing, he waved her off slumping into the grass with a grunt; his arm landing across Ludwig and Feliciano's sleeping forms lazily.

Shaking her head when Ludwig smacked his brother's hand before rolling over only to let him hug him from behind with a sigh, Elizabeta turned back to the space where Arthur was sitting. Approaching him slowly, she felt grief well up in her chest as she caught sight of Iain's tormented features.

Steeling herself, she forced herself forward.

"Hey, why don't you get some sleep?" She demanded, gently touching Arthur's shoulder. He looked up with a sigh, his eyes so full of pain that Elizabeta could barely stop herself from crying. "Arthur…you have no idea how sorry I am." She whispered earnestly when he looked away. "Had I known this was going to happen…what am I saying? Arthur you don't have to forgive me. In fact I don't want you to forgive me. I messed up, more than should be justifiable. If anything happens to Iain…this is my fault." He didn't turn to face her; brokenly he kept his gaze locked in his hands.

Sighing shakily, Elizabeta moved to walk away. She would keep watch in the rafters if she had to.

A hand caught her wrist as she turned to leave.

Startled she looked down, and found pale fingers had wound their way around hers.

"It's not your fault." Arthur whispered, his hand shuddering violently. Elizabeta felt her heart lurch as he stared up at her exhaustedly. It was the most she had heard him talk since he had argued with Ivan and the others about letting them stay.

Relieved, she squeezed his hand gently. Still planning to leave him alone, she frowned when his grip increased on her wrist as she tried to move away.

"Please…don't leave me alone." He choked his fingers gripping like steel around her wrist. She spotted tears streaming down his cheeks even in the dim light.

Lowering herself into the hay besides him, Elizabeta felt his grip loosen on her wrist only slightly. Smiling as he placed his head on her shoulder exhaustedly after a moment, she felt her worries ease as he relaxed slowly until his eyes flickered shut in a fitful sleep.

Lifting a hand hesitantly after Arthur's breathing slowed enough to hint that he had fallen asleep she began gently running her hand through his tousled hair. He looked as if his will had been broken, even in sleep he seemed like he was past the point of caring.

_"_We're going to be ok Arthur." She insisted softly, lifting a blanket from the ground beside them and pulling it up and over his shoulders. Keeping watch like this wouldn't be bad; she decided staring up at a gap between the ceiling and the roof, watching the stars sparkling above their shelter.

_We're going to be ok right?_

_~X~_

"Alright everyone! I want an early start this morning so let's get moving!" Arthur groaned angrily as Alfred's voice charged into his eardrums, jerking him roughly from his dreams. Sitting up groggily he rubbed his eyes as he straightened, startling Elizabeta into alertness.

Alfred was already up and ready to go, moving around the barn as he shook awake those who were more reluctant to wake with the sun. Finally, after ten more minutes, he had everyone on their feet with a meal ready to eat, or MRE, in their hands.

Picking at lukewarm noodles, canned bread, and dried fruit the group grumbled out good mornings as Alfred watched them with a grin on his face.

"I realize you guys were hoping for a quiet day off chilling in Ivan's barn…" He began as soon as he was sure Ludwig had enough pasta in his mouth to keep him quiet while he spoke. "But I'm taking a group into Augusta this morning, and I'm leaving as soon as I can get Ivan's boat hooked up to his truck." The group stared at him in shock, Ludwig nearly choking on his breakfast as he struggled to protest. "I'm not looking for arguments, I'm looking for volunteers." Alfred barked, ignoring Ludwig's coughing and angry sputtering.

"I'll come with you." Gilbert volunteered, smirking as if he hadn't nearly died a few days prior.

"Nein you will not!" Ludwig roared, jumping to his feet and pulling his brother backwards as he stood. "You are _injured_!" He pointed out, waving Gilbert's hand in front of his face violently. "I let you go last time, and I nearly lost you. This time…there is no way on this _Gott verdammt _earth that I will let you take one step out of this barn." Gilbert, taken aback, opened his mouth to protest, but it was Elizabeta who spoke next.

"Gilbert he's right…" She sighed, catching his eyes as he turned to face her. "Your hand, Gilbert you can barely hold your fork let alone a weapon!"

"I'll use my other hand then!" Gilbert snapped, exasperatedly wiggling his left hand in front of her face. "Besides if I'm not going then who else will?" He cried.

"I will!" Elizabeta shouted back.

"Well if you're going, then so am I!" Gilbert's tone well beyond angry. "Cause you are not going without me!" Elizabeta scoffed.

"How dare you! Do you think that I can't handle myself?"

"I already said that you're not going, bruder." Ludwig cautioned, his eyes threatening.

"Alfred, buddy, help me out here!" Gilbert pleaded, turning towards Alfred. Alfred winced, noting the hopeful look in his companion's eyes. "Alfred…?" Looking away, Alfred gave his response more to the floor than to his companions.

"I'm sorry Gilbert, but I can't risk losing you. You're already injured and…and I don't want to start a fight with you and your brother by allowing you to come." Gilbert's jaw dropped. "Elizabeta I'm sorry…but I'm not taking you either."

"What? Why won't you take me? It's just a cut, and he can't decide what I can and can't do!" Gilbert demanded, stepping forward.

"Are you kidding me? Why not?" Elizabeta bellowed, her cry shaking hay from the rafters.

"Because I really don't want to deal with your lover's spat while I'm on a mission to save someone's life!" Alfred stammered, exasperatedly. "Is that blunt enough for you?" Alfred roared, scowling back at the duo. "Now, sit down and for the love of _God_…Shut up." He growled, pointing at the ground behind them as they stared up at him lividly. "SIT DOWN!" He repeated his hand lifting dangerously. Reluctantly, both slumped to the ground.

Alfred hesitated a moment after they obeyed, unsure of what to do without the two people who had always been willing to go along with his plans. Turning back towards his remaining group he grinned apologetically.

"Well I…"

"I will go with you." The group jumped as the voice they had become unfamiliar with, spoke up from the Humvee. Looking up they blinked at Francis as the man cleaned his blade monotonously. "What is with that look? Surely you would not disagree, when you are so pressed for help already." He pointed out, not looking up from the steel. Alfred blinked, astonished at the man's change of heart.

"It's not that…it's just that I wasn't expecting you would want to help me after…well you know." Alfred admitted. Francis shrugged his shoulders, his hair falling over his face as he slipped down from the Humvee.

"Mon ami, I cannot blame you for something that was so obviously out of your control." He pointed out, coming to rest just outside the ring of survivors. "I only wish to aid you." He placed the knife in his pocket as Alfred smiled happily.

"Well I'd certainly appreciate the help." Alfred walked forward as he spoke clasping Francis' hand in his with a toothy grin. Terrified, Antonio squeaked as he jumped to his feet.

"Alfred n…" When the group turned to face him he froze, petrified when he found that all eyes were on him. He hated it, their eyes were like the paintings in the church…the ones who had judged him all those days he was alone.

"What's up Tonio?" Alfred demanded, raising an eyebrow. His hand was still clasped in Francis' as Antonio fought not to back away from the stares.

"I…" He squeaked, flinching when Francis' cold eyes fell on him with a scowl.

"He wants to go with you." Grunting, Tino stood so he was placed defensively in front of Antonio who instantly shirked away, attempting to disappear into the background. "And so do I."

~X~

**Hey guys I wanted to take a moment to thank you for the reviews! They are only slightly less awesome then the Great Prussia himself. Anyway I was thinking the other day, and came to the conclusion of how I am going to start getting more reviews on this story. **

**It might interest you to know that while making this story I have also developed backstory that I was not planning on using for each character in this story right now. By backstories I mean details on what each character was doing before the original trio came across them in this zombie apocalypse I have created.**

**I mean EVERYONE has one. In these backstories I have developed enough information for an oneshot for each character. That means you would get to see Gilbert as a cop, figure out exactly what happened to Berdwald and Peter**, **heck I'll even write one for William (Wales) if you want to hear how exactly how he got bit on his way to his mother's house. **

**(Yes, I know its bribery, but I've realized I am willing to stoop really low for feedback nowadays.)**

**Here's my deal ladies and gents: If I reach at least 50 reviews by the time this story has ended…I will open it up for suggestions for oneshots of a character of the reviewer's choice. **

**Do you like that plan? Let's find out…**

**Ready…Set…REVIEW!**


	18. Decisions

**Umm…heheh…I forgot to umm…warn you in the last chapter. So, here's a warning: Blood, gore, and a wee bit of insanity from a few characters. FORGIVE ME!**

Arthur just needed a moment to think alone.

Of course he knew walking alone could be risky, but he just needed time to _think_.

The others were so busy preparing to leave that they took no notice as he slipped away. Pushing open the side door of the barn, Arthur shrugged his jacket over his shoulders as he slipped into the frigid early morning snow. He wouldn't be but a minute. Besides, if he hurried back they probably wouldn't even notice he was missing.

It had been so long since he had been alone, since he had a moment where he couldn't hear anything but his own breathing and the crunch of snow under his boots.

He found quickly that Ivan had cleared a series of trails through his property, some headed towards the road, others circling closely around the house. Escape routes and paths that his massive party could use to keep an eye on the surrounding forest. He could spot foot prints leading away and back towards the house in the snow, the fact that they had yet to be covered by the overnight snow hinted that the trails were used frequently and recently. If he was careful, chances were he would be safe.

Not that he was particularly concerned with his personal safety at the moment.

So, taking care to keep the farm house in his line of vision, Arthur proceeded down the partially overgrown path.

The clear morning sky, still a particularly royal shade of purple, glowed overhead the emerald trees as slowly the sun rose in the East. All around him, he could hear the sound of winter birds chirping, it was a noise he had thought he would never hear again.

_How many things will I never hear again? _Arthur questioned himself silently, staring up at the tops of the pines and spotting a small red cardinal flitting amongst the upper boughs. _My mother's laugh…William and Irene bickering over something trivial…_

It hurt him to admit, but in the time he had spent with his group, between the fights and the constant conversation, he had not once thought about his family. Staring at his feet miserably, Arthur kicked at a pinecone sending it flying the brush with a thump.

_Perhaps things would have turned out differently if it had been my mother or one of my other siblings who survived. _He mused, stuffing his frozen hands deeper into his pockets. _William was braver than me, Irene more reasonable, my mother calmer. God, if it hadn't been me who survived then maybe Iain wouldn't be sick! He wouldn't have had to work so hard if I was…_he broke off, his feet coming to a jarring halt beneath him. Rubbing at his eyes furiously, he slumped to the side against the trunk of a massive spruce with groan. Against his will, his thought finished itself: …_If I was dead… _

Dumbstruck, Arthur slumped into the snow not caring that his jeans were instantly soaked through, leaving him shivering in the deep snow.

_I should be dead…if I was dead then Iain would be fine. He was always able to take care of himself. _Lashing out he slammed his palm against the trunk, barely feeling the pain as it shot up his numb arm. _Maybe I should just die! Just run off on my own and croak somewhere! I doubt they would miss me. I've never contributed anything to this group. What do I possibly have to offer? They don't need me! I'd just get in the damned way. Alfred, Iain, everyone! They've done so much to protect me, but what have I done to aid them? Nothing! I'm useless! I'm pathetic…I'm…_

He couldn't bring himself to finish.

Sobbing, Arthur brought his knees closer to his chest. Burying his face into his snow covered gloves he felt all the tears he had fought to hold in for the past week pour out into his palms.

He sat against the tree a long while, not noticing the cold or the stinging in his palms. Sobbing violently until he could not force any more tears to leak from his eyes.

Exhausted, he slumped into the snow and onto back, his hands lying over his chest gently. Shakily attempting to gather himself, Arthur stared up at the sky blankly his red ringed eyes spotting the same bright crimson cardinal he had been watching before perched on one of the lower lying branches.

To his surprise, he found that the creature was staring back at him its tiny little head cocked to the side.

**What are you doing on the ground**? It seemed to ask, peeping as it hopped around its tiny little resting spot.

Smiling despite himself, Arthur sighed as the cardinal cheeped back at him in an almost impatient tone.

**You need to get up human! **Insisting to himself that it was indeed the bird telling him to do so, Arthur sat up, brushing off his skullcap with a half frozen hand. Even if it was his own mind that was creating words for the creature, the bird was right, lying around would accomplish nothing. If he wanted to finally be useful…he would have to work a lot harder than just tipping over and dying.

Seemingly satisfied with his decision, the moment Arthur stood; the little cardinal took off with a peep, disappearing into the trees.

Shaking his head, Arthur started to make his way back to camp.

**~X~**

The group stood silently in the snow while Ivan hitched his boat to his truck. Alfred attempted not to meet the anxious and often livid expressions of his companions were not accompanying them. It was harder still to fight back the disappointment that Arthur had chosen not to wave them off.

Exhaling heavily he returned his attention back to Ivan, who was standing and slapping his hands against his thighs to warm them.

"Are we ready to leave?" Alfred's question hung in the frozen air, breaking the strange silence that enveloped the early morning air. Scratching the back of his head Ivan shrugged his shoulders, and glanced at Yao who had not stopped scowling since they had arrived.

"We are ready to go." He explained mostly to Yao, who simply huffed and stalked towards the house muttering under his breath. Ivan grimaced at the move, but he was smiling when he spoke to Alfred again. "I promised I would be back before noon, so we must move swiftly if we are to reach a part in the river that will allow us to launch the boat." Alfred didn't need to be told twice, gesturing for his group to follow he leapt into the bed of the truck.

"Oh…you'll want a blanket if you plan on sitting up there." Ivan's older sister, a friendly if shy girl named Katyusha, squeaked as she handed each member of the group a hand stitched quilt. "And please be careful in Augusta."

"We will, Miss, and thank you for the blankets." Alfred beamed, making the girl flush noticeably. Embarrassed she laughed as she moved back into line with the rest of the group who was staying behind.

"Brother…" Ivan's little sister, Natalia snapped as Ivan moved to get into the truck. She was wearing a gun over her shoulder as well as daggers that hung like ornaments from every inch of her body. "I wish to accompany you." Ivan seemed irritated at the girl's wish, groaning he rubbed his eyes.

"I have already been through this with you, Natalia! You are to be staying here, to help keep the perimeter secure while I am away." The girl seemed unconvinced, her hands tight around her weapons in a fashion that seemed threatening. "You _will_ stay here." Ivan barked out his order as he swung into the driver's seat. As he moved, he called out to one of the other members of his group: "Imm, you come with me." Yao's brother, a young boy with a smile that seemed inappropriate giving the situation, saluted goofily as he hopped into the passenger seat.

With a roar of a monstrous engine, the truck lurched to life underneath them the moment Imm disappeared into the cab. Alfred shot one last look at his group, grinning and waving to the rest that were left standing in the snow.

"Be safe!" Elizabeta ordered, waving excitedly back at them.

"If you find some pasta noodles you should bring them back for me!" Feliciano suggested, hopping a bit to keep warm.

"I will! Haha I'll try my best ok, Feli?" Alfred laughed as Ivan began pulling out of the driveway, trying not to take Arthur's absence to heart. Still he found himself unconsciously trailing his eyes to the barn, praying for a moment that Arthur would peer out from the barn.

"WAIT!" Alfred jumped with a yelp as the shout filled the air, wheeling around towards the front of the truck as Ivan jerked to a halt. Startled he stared in disbelief as a form began making its way towards them, making its way towards them from the tree line.

Walking towards them was Arthur, his gun strapped over his shoulder and his cricket bat resting in his hands. He waved at Ivan as he approached, throwing his pack into the bed of the truck and slinging himself over the edge.

"Arthur…what are you doing?" Alfred demanded shooting a look towards the barn where he had last seen Arthur, then back to the Englishman as Arthur found a dry place to sit on the bench beside Alfred.

"I took a walk…thought things out a bit. I'm coming with you Alfred." Arthur explained, not turning to face the American. "I decided I didn't want to be able to blame anyone else if Iain doesn't get help." He insisted as Ivan lurched into motion again.

"You went for a walk by yourself?" Tino snapped angrily as Alfred beamed happily at having Arthur join them. Arthur looked up through his bangs with a shrug, choosing not to answer the Finn's question.

"We could definitely use your help…it's good to see you up and about." Antonio muttered quietly, pulling his hat further over his chilled ears. Peering at the man shyly, Arthur smiled softly.

"Thank you."

~X~

Ivan's boat, it turned, was nothing more than a row boat.

Noticing his companions' distress at the idea of crawling up the river in the boat, he explained that though he did have an actual motorboat, the infected were attracted to noise and something as noisy as that would draw their attention like flies to honey.

Tino still wasn't convinced, he had never been a big fan of boats to begin with, and the small well-worn craft was a bit too feeble looking for his comfort zones.

Even as the boat lowered into the slow moving current of the river, it did so reluctantly. The small craft fighting with the bindings as Ivan swore, struggling to unhook it from his truck.

Stirred by the bitter winds, the water in the river was choppy and bashed against the shoreline with heated slaps. The black water lapped hungrily against the yellowing sides of the craft, leaving icy streaks along the sides like desperate hands attempting to gain entrance onto the boat.

"Coming Tino?" Alfred demanded as he pulled a life vest over his leather coat and hopped onto the craft with ease. Queasy already, Tino swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat and grudgingly eased onto the bucking seats. "You don't look so hot." Alfred pointed out with an obnoxious grin.

"Shut the hell up!" Tino barked back clutching white knuckled onto the boats edge. "God, couldn't we just walk?" He rasped, when Antonio nimbly stepped into the craft with a grin that lit up his entire face.

"Seasick?" Arthur smirked, moving into place besides Alfred and grabbing on to one of the heavy oak oars. Tino scowled, feeling no need to answer as he curled in on himself miserably. Silently, Francis moved into the craft and accepted an oar from Alfred with a nod.

"Alfred, this is a walkie-talkie. It will work for about five miles before it will cease working. Please, feel free to call me when you return with your supplies." Ivan urged as he leaned over the dock and handed the man a thick brick like walkie-talkie with a childish grin. "I am on channel seven at all times."

Nodding his thanks, Alfred opened his pack and stuffed the brick into the depths along with the rest of his supplies.

"Please do not break it, I only have the set." Ivan ordered, his eyes sparkling.

Finally, holding onto the edge of the boat with one of his massive hands while Imm worked hastily to remove the mooring line from the back of the truck, Ivan held the boat in place while the group situated themselves. Smiling eagerly, he waited for Alfred to give him a thumbs-up before letting them slip from his fingers.

"Be safe my friends!" He called after them as they dug their oars into the water for the first time, pulling themselves into deeper waters. "I shall take care of your family as if it was my own while you are absent, Alfred." He assured the American as they drew away from the two men on the dock. "Oh, and if you do not mind…if you happen to be finding a bottle of vodka on your way, think of poor Ivan all alone up here with no alcohol to keep him company." Alfred laughed at this, and nodded. "Then for now this is farewell, may you return with gifts of vodka!"

"Thanks for the boat, Ivan!" Alfred called from the boat, waving as the dock disappeared behind a bend in the river. Turning back to his group, Alfred beamed as they rowed. "This is going to be great. I can feel it; we're going to be back so fast, Ivan isn't going to have time to make it home."

"Don't get cocky Alfred, we shouldn't underestimate this. You of all people know that." Arthur scolded, his eyes flicking across the shoreline apprehensively.

"Way to lighten the mood Iggy." Alfred huffed, coaxing a laugh from Antonio who came to a choked silence when he found Francis was scowling at him.

Silence filled the air after Antonio's chuckle, leaving the members of the small company to seep in their thoughts for a long while.

All around them, the forest loomed like a constant dark companion, scowling down at them as they edged along the river with only the slapping of the paddles against the water filling the air with noise.

They were only on the water for about half an hour before Alfred spotted the small town up the river. Grinning at the rest he pointed eagerly, receiving small uneasy frowns in return. Only Tino seemed eager to escape the confines of the small craft, his eyes locked on the town and his hands locked around the sides of the boat.

As the boat struck gravel with a small scrape, he was the first to stagger from the craft and onto the ground with a silent cry of joy. Following after him with amused grins, the men quickly set themselves to prepare to enter the town.

Tying the boat to a small dock just a small distance from the first line of houses, Alfred turned to his group while pulling his baseball bat from his back. Slapping the steel against his palms he studied each member of his group discerningly.

"Alright we're heading in. Keep an eye out for infected, and for the love of _God_ watch the ground. We didn't last time and I think you all know what happened." They nodded slowly so he continued. "If you think anything seems suspicious, or you think you hear something, please tell someone! I don't feel like getting jumped because no one speaks up about hearing an infected." He emphasized, locking his gaze on each member of the group in turn.

"I suppose you want to take point?" Tino asked, peering down his scope into the town, scrutinizing each detail of the collection of houses.

"That's right." Alfred affirmed, stepping forward purposefully. "Ivan says that the infirmary is on the South side of town, close to us, but the grocery store is in the North. If we want supplies we'll have to go through the whole thing." Seeing no looks of disagreement, Alfred shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the town. "Then off we go."

~X~

They couldn't be dead…his brain couldn't come to terms with that. Sitting in a pool of red that stretched on for miles, Iain groaned as he gaped down at the faces in front of him.

Torn, bloody, destroyed. His family and friends stared up at him with eyes that no longer saw. Reaching out with a shuddering hand, Iain gently brushed a lock of soft blonde hair from his brother's face. Arthur's eyes were open, terrified, disbelieving. It was a gaze that left Iain heartbroken.

Numb, Iain pulled his brother onto his lap. Limply, Arthur's limbs slipped from his lap, slumping into the blood below them with a splash.

_How could you let this happen? _An accusing voice demanded behind him. Jumping, Iain turned, pulling Arthur closer with a shuddering hand.

Behind him, a woman with hair the flowed down her back in a tangled disaster of red and grey scowled back at him. Her face was gaunt, bloodied and streaked with gore. Skin hung from a torn jugular, blood still oozing from the terrible wound. With skin that was grey and strained around bones, she looked as though she had been buried for weeks, but still he recognized her.

"M…mum?" He gasped, feeling remorse well up anew.

_Why didn't you protect us? _She shrieked through her split and bloodied lips. _You let this happen! _She accused as Iain stared hopelessly back at her.

Slowly she was being joined by others. William, Irene, even Matthew. Each stared back at him forlornly, their eyes either angry or full of tears that poured red like blood down their faces.

_You did this! You could have stopped it! _His mother continued as he clutched Arthur's limp shoulders feverishly. _You are to blame! You! _

"I…I didn't…"Iain stammered, too shocked to fight back as she staggered forward along with the others, her eyes moving from angry to hungry. Terrified, Iain remained frozen as they hissed and snarled like beasts, their mouths dripping with blood. "Don't…leave me alone." He choked out.

_All your fault. _Arthur's voice whispered from his arms. Looking down in shock, Iain felt astonishment fill his mind as Arthur hissed up at him, his eyes glazed over with a milky film. Iain didn't have time to stop him as he bit into the arm cradling him to Iain's chest.

"NO!" The bellow left his lips even as his eyes flew open.

Franticly, Iain rolled off the cot he had been laying on, landing with a thud on something relatively soft below him. Flailing for a moment, Iain fought to free himself from the sheet that was holding him captive.

Roaring in frustration Iain weakly squirmed, feeling sickeningly helpless. After a moment of desperation, Iain slumped sweating against the ground below him.

Here the hell was he?

Rolling with a grunt so that he was lying on his back, Iain scowled down at the blankets wound around him like a straightjacket. Ignoring the annoyance for a moment, Iain studied his surroundings blearily.

He was in a barn; he could determine that much at least. He was in a barn, his chest was bare, his felt as though he was about to split in half, and he was painfully _alone_.

Where was Arthur?

Startled at the man's absence, Iain sat up with a groan. His head swimming as he did so, and soon enough he found himself heaving dryly into the hay next to him. Wiping his lips as he finished, he shakily began to stand up, ignoring the stabs of pain that radiated from his chest as he did so.

Kicking off the blanket still with a snarl he

"Arthur…?" He croaked, staggering towards the barn door dizzily. "Al?" He called, his feet staggering drunkenly towards the door. Hand outstretched he fumbled uselessly with the latch holding the large barn door in place.

Panicking when he found he was unable to actually lift the plank, slammed up against the door. Swearing when it refused to budge he whirled, grasping onto the edge of one of the stalls with a shuddering hand until the room steadied enough for him to search the large space for an accessible escape route.

A door, leading towards the rear of the barn, seemed like something he could handle even in his weakened state.

Staggering towards the door with a new purpose, Iain bit his lip until it bled to keep a scream of pain from slipping from his lips. His bones felt as if they were on fire, his skin pulled at his stitches with desperate teeth attempting to detach the offensive strands from his person.

He knew he should lie down, that if he kept going his body wouldn't hold out on itself, but he didn't know where his brother was…hell he didn't even know where _he_ was. But, one thing was for certain, as sure as there was a hell he was going to find out.

Catching ahold of the door handle with gaudily bandaged hands, Iain managed with a smirk of triumph to throw the door open.

He was met quickly with a gust of air that nearly sent him sprawling. Bitter cold wind dug into his bare chest, sending a shooting pain up and into his skull. Rasping out a string of swear words that would curl most men's hair he scanned around the snowy property with watering eyes.

A house, standing not fifty feet away from him, was bustling with life.

Disorientated, dizzy, and determined, Iain began to trek across the distance between his prison and the place most likely to hold answers.

His feet, he realized after taking the first few steps in the knee high snow, were bare. He supposed he should probably turn around and find something to cover his feet, but the feeling in his head told him that if he didn't carry on he was going to be unconscious again before he could locate the accursed shoes. Instead, he kept his focus blearily on the house before him, his eyes fading and shooting stars before his eyes at every step.

After what felt like eternity, his feet dragging through the dagger like snow for what could have been hours, Iain's fist connected with the door.

Vaguely, he heard someone's conversation come to a screeching halt. Not caring in the slightest, Iain grabbed ahold of the handle with a curse and tossed open the door, staggering into the house and nearly tripping over the entry rug.

Holding onto the wall for support, with a hiss of pain Iain straightened with a great deal of effort. Feeling a scowl form on his face, he took in the shocked looks of the men and women before him.

Some of the faces he recognized through the veil of fog floating through his eyes, but others he didn't know and didn't give a shit about. There was only one face he wanted to see in the crowd, and unfortunately he wasn't there.

"Where the hell…is…my brother?" He rasped, his free hand flying upwards to hold his aching chest. They didn't seem inclined to answer; instead they stared back at him through eyes that couldn't get any wider naturally. "Am…I speaking Latin?" He growled, taking a step forward menacingly. He barely even registered the strangers who all had their hands rested nervously on their guns. "_Answer me_!" The group flinched at his hissed command, and this time Elizabeta chose to speak.

"Iain, you're injured terribly…please let me take you back to the barn." She begged, standing up from her seat and rushing to his side to support him. Swearing angrily, Iain batted her hands away and scowled at Gilbert.

"Where is he?" He demanded, noting the instant understanding that welled up in Gilbert's eyes. They might not get along at all times, but they were both big brothers struggling to keep the younger alive. Sighing heavily, Gilbert stood as well.

"He left with Alfred and a small group to go look for supplies for us and antibiotics for you. We didn't know he was planning on going until they were literally out the gate." He admitted while grabbing ahold of Iain's arm to support him.

Iain felt his anger well up afresh, but had no more energy to strike out again.

"You…just let him go?" Iain growled threateningly. "Why?" He barked. Gilbert shook his head apologetically and quickly wrapped Iain in a blanket that Ludwig handed to him.

"He was a wreck after you…well after you fell. We thought you were dying; most people would have been dying! We needed antibiotics to treat your wounds, and even though you're awake we still do. Arthur is a grown man; he felt that he needed to ensure that the antibiotics made it home to you." Gilbert explained, situating Iain on a couch despite Yao's angry hiss of disapproval.

Lividly, Iain pulled away from the man the moment he was seated. Too angry to look at any of them, he groaned and placed his palm against his forehead.

"He shouldn't have gone…damn you Gilbert why did you let him go? If he dies…If he even gets hurt…!" Iain's voice was no higher than a whisper as his head throbbed and his mind screamed anxiously.

"Then I give you permission to kill me." The group seemed to freeze as Gilbert spoke, shocked they turned to the man in horror.

"_Bruder _you can't just…!" Ludwig roared indignantly, confounded that his brother would suggest anything of the sort. Gilbert shrugged his shoulders, he had nothing to say.

Iain's laugh was enough to draw attention back to the man.

"Ah am not going to kill you if Iggy doesn't come back." Iain growled, scowling up at the shocked albino with eyes that held more forms of pain then the group had ever seen. "Because it ain't your fault he left…" He sighed. "It's mine."

~X~X~X~

**So many reviews! It makes me cry with great happiness! In return I give to you this longer than usual chapter! Taadaa! Now you just have to make it to fifty reviews and I'll start taking requests to work on while I finish this story. =D you guys are just made of awesome you know that?**


	19. The Sweetest of Betrayals

**Warnings: Pretty much the same as last chapter, just add some Romance into that! **

Being ill was a part of life that Iain was bizarrely unaccustomed to. For the first time in his life he was forced to rely on others to aid him, and that infuriated him. The infection was seizing the strength from his limbs also stole away his appetite and ability to do basic activities like walking without assistance. He knew even as he watched his companions go about with their various tasks inside the small barn space that if anything was to go wrong, he would be helpless to stop it.

Luckily the group had the commonsense to leave him alone; he was in no mood to deal with them at the moment. Instead of doting over him like a small child, an action which would have resulted in a few busted noses, they scurried around the camp in search of something to do that would keep them as far away from the irritable Scotsman as possible.

Of course this was what he wanted, but being left alone turned out to be less enjoyable than he first believed.

Bed ridden and with nothing to do but think and sleep, Iain found that he was becoming more anxious by the hour. He felt trapped, useless, and overall resentful of his own feebleness.

The memories of his dream still haunted him, and as the hours wore on and Arthur and the others had still not radioed in he felt yet another sensation he was not all too familiar with:

Worry.

Iain fought to keep the emotion suppressed, but despite his best efforts, the anxiety was pulling at the back of his mind constantly. Was this what his mother was talking about when she claimed that he and his siblings would worry her to death all those years ago? If it was, then he felt sorry for her, because he was finding the emotion to be a particularly sickening feeling.

He was twitchy, anxious, constantly shooting glances at either the clock or the barn door. Despite his seemingly never ending exhaustion, Iain could not force his eyes shut for longer than a few short lengths of time.

Lying stagnant in his own pool of anxiety, Iain felt as if he might go mad. He needed something to get his mind off of it, but of course he had managed to scare away most hopes for conversation already. So instead he found himself scowling up at the ceiling, counting cracks and doing his best to ignore both the physical and mental anguish he was suffering through.

He was so wrapped up in his self-induced trance that he nearly jumped out of his skin when someone touched his hand. Jerking his head around he scowled at the intruder only to feel his scowl melt away to be replaced with a small apologetic grin when Elizabeta smiled down at him.

"Sorry." She laughed, kneeling down so she was at his eye level and pressing her palm to his forehead curiously, "Your fever seems to be a bit lower." She declared with a smile, brushing his hair out of his face before sitting back on her heels. "The others are all eating in the house, and despite your grumpiness I didn't think you'd like to be out here all by yourself." She pointed out, pulling a face when he scowled.

"Ye didnae have to." He muttered, sitting up a bit more.

"I didn't have to but I did." She beamed tweaking his nose much to his irritation, "How are you feeling?" Not sure if he should answer truthfully or not, Iain shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you want me to say that Ah'm guid, or do ye want the truth?" He demanded groggily, his words slow and raspy even in his own mind.

"The truth if you please. I can take it trust me." She insisted patting his knee and keeping her eyes locked on his in search of any statement that might be a lie or underplaying his condition.

"Well Ah'm as feckless as a wee laum, ma head feels like it's splittin' doon the middle, ah downa stand up and…whit is sae funny?" He demanded in confusion, raising an eyebrow as Elizabeta began to giggle then laugh as he continued his rant. Chortling in a rather unladylike fashion Elizabeta attempted to stifle her laughter with her hands as he stared at her in confusion.

"I'm…I'm s…sorry Iain, it's not funny…I shouldn't be laughing." She sniggered, stuffing her fist into her mouth to stop the giggles. "It's just…the more irritated and tired you are the heavier your accent gets. This time I could barely understand you! And your face was just getting redder and redder…" There were tears streaming down her cheeks as she attempted to stifle the choking laughter still attempting to burst free from her aching lungs.

Amused, Iain chuckled and leaned back on his borrowed pillow, watching as she struggled desperately to regain her composure. Slowly he felt the corners of his lips curl into a genuine smile, he had never heard Elizabeta laugh before and not surprisingly he found that he liked it.

It wasn't overly feminine, like some of the girls he had encountered in the past, but then again Elizabeta was nothing like any person he had ever met. She wasn't afraid when he got cross, she seemed amused when he shouted, and somehow she managed to be tougher than most men he knew.

One minute she was a doting motherly figure, caring and compassionate. The next she was aggressive and feisty, arm wrestling with one of the members of their group or breaking up a fight. Elizabeta had so many layers to her that Iain was sure he would spend his entire life trying to figure her out, and for some reason that idea didn't bother him at all.

He knew that she…cared…for the Albino, but he'd seen them fight so maybe there was still hope for him?

He was almost disgusted with himself for thinking it; he'd never been one of those sappy and romantic love-struck idiots prancing around for some girl or another. Still, watching her now with her eyes sparkling and her cheeks a bright pink; he wondered if he finally understood why those guys had acted that way.

With her sitting so close, her hand rested on his knee, and her lips quivering as they slowly began to relax: he felt calm for the first time in weeks.

He made the decision before he took the time to think about it. Sitting up with a grunt he turned towards Elizabeta with a cautious glance. He wasn't sure why he did it, but reaching out, he gently cupped her cheek in his palm. Startled, Elizabeta reached up to the hand with her own fingers.

"Iain?" She demanded, her eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. Chuckling, Iain leaned forward, pulling Elizabeta with him as he moved, and gently pressed his lips against hers.

At first, she was too stunned to move much, her hands hanging limply at her side. Even after her eyebrows shot upwards in realization, she appeared to be torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. Iain didn't mind, he was enjoying himself far too much.

Leaning forward a bit more, he wrapped his free hand in her dark chocolate colored hair, relishing the feeling of the silky curls rushing across his fingers. After a moment Elizabeta relaxed, her eyes fluttering shut and her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

Smiling into the kiss, Iain moved to deepen it pulling her onto his lap with hands she found were still impressively strong. This time, Elizabeta let him.

For that second he forgot the pain, forgot the worry. All he cared about was the woman on his lap, how she smelt and how her skin felt against his. He was mesmerized by how they clashed against each other so pleasingly, her intense blazing emotions against his.

His hands roamed down her back, desperate to keep her close. She clung to him just as urgently, her fingers entwined with his untidy crimson hair ensuring he couldn't pull away. This sort of kiss, desperate and sensual, was unique, shining by itself above any other kiss either party had experienced.

Yet, it seemed all too soon, the kiss was over.

Resting their forehead against each other, their breathing ragged and exhausted, the two clung to each other for a moment while slowly realization seemed to well up in their minds. Iain felt her pull away even as he prayed she would stay.

Her eyes were wide, horrified at herself for what she had done. Disentangling her limbs as Iain sighed heavily; she staggered back with her face glowing red with astonishment.

"I…I…" She squeaked, her hand hovering over her lips as he followed her with his eyes calmly. "I'm sorry!" She choked her eyes full of tears as she turned and fled from the barn.

"Elizabeta wait!" He cried after her, but it was too late, she was gone. "Way to go Iain…" Snarling to himself he flung down onto the scratchy sheet once more and scowled angrily up at the ceiling. "Way to fucking go…ye stupid son of a goddamn bitch. FUCK!" Tossing his arm across his eyes, he tried once again to force himself to sleep.

Outside, Elizabeta hesitated by the door, allowing the snow to cool her flaming cheeks. Running her hand across her lips, she could still feel Iain and to her horror she was not angered as she should have been. Groaning she crouched in the snow her mind moving a million miles an hour.

What on Earth had she just done?

~X~

The grocery was abandoned, boarded up from the outside, and spray painted with words to ward off looters from the owner who believed he would be coming back for his business. But, words were just words, and plywood was easy enough to remove with enough force in the right places.

Soon enough the group was through the small gap Alfred made in the front window with his baseball bat, their flashlights sending streams of light into the inky darkness. Signaling for Tino to keep watch on the small gap for infected, Alfred waved for the rest of the group to disperse into the store urging them to stay on their toes before they went to search for the various items they required in the dust coated store.

Nervous in the suddenly enclosed environment, Antonio felt himself start to fidget far more noticeably than he had been outside. His hands shook so violently that he had to hold the flashlight with two hands to keep the beam steady.

_ When this is over…I am going to go back to España! I am going to open my own café and I will never be stressed again a day in my life. Sí, that is a great plan…a safe plan…don't you think so Mary? _The small figurine in his pocket didn't answer, but he felt her approval of the plan and smiled beginning to pile bags of rice into his back pack.

"Do we really need to bring the Russian vodka?" Arthur demanded from across the store, lifting up a clear bottle of the liquid questioningly having never purchased the drink himself.

"If you don't bring it back for him, do it for me!" Tino hissed his scope level with the hole in the door nervously. "Actually, go ahead and grab me three bottles of the good stuff! The more expensive the better, Berdwald never got the expensive ones…" He huffed, his gaze never leaving the window.

"Should I grab some cigarettes while I'm back here?" Arthur demanded with a sigh, eyeing the tobacco products with a discerning eye.

"Might as well..." Alfred put in, stuffing his duffle bag full of protein bars, trail mix, and freeze dried foods. "Anyone see where they keep the flats of water?" He demanded, snagging one of the carts and pulling it down the aisles. "This is the best shopping trip ever!" He cheered, tearing open a candy bar with his teeth and biting into it hungrily as he skidded down the aisles at top speed.

"Knock it off you stupid git!" Arthur raged, handing Tino the bag full of alcohol and cigarettes before snagging a new bag from the ground and moving back into the store. "You told us to keep an eye out for the bloody infected and you're running around like a loon!" Alfred grinned at him as he passed, sticking out his tongue in an infuriating fashion.

"Great! So if they're in here they'll come right out into the open and we'll be able to see them. Loosen up Iggy." Alfred rolled his eyes continuing to wheel his way around the small store.

"_Mon ami…_I have found the water." Francis called from one of the aisles a good way into the store. Grinning, Alfred skidded in his direction.

"That's great Franny!" Alfred cried as he wheeled around the corner, receiving a thin smile in response from the man. "I must have zoomed right past it." Skidding to halt just in front of the water, Alfred dismounted his ride and moved up to Francis excitedly. Francis, who had found the stacks next to the open doors of one of the back storage rooms, shrugged as Alfred approached.

"But of course…you were moving quickly, it was an easy thing to overlook in the dark." Francis shrugged, lifting one of the flats and moving out of Alfred's way. Happy that Francis finally seemed to be more relaxed; Alfred stooped down to lift one of the flats himself.

A shuffle of feet stumbling behind him made him laugh. Turning towards the storage room where the noise had come from he spotted the man standing in the dark.

"It's not that heavy Francis, come on m…" He felt his stomach drop as steely hands wrapped around his wrists. Alfred felt his jaw drop and his throat release a squeak of terror as an infected that was all muscle and decaying flesh growled back at him. "RARGH!" He bellowed as the infected lurched forward, aimed for his neck. Dropping the water onto the man's foot he flew backwards with a cry, his move saving his skin for a moment.

Instantly the beast was upon him again, its hands groping for a hold on either Alfred's neck or chest. Groaning under the things weight, Alfred kicked up with a shout momentarily dislodging the man turned beast.

Still the thing seemed unfazed, its jaws moving closer and closer to Alfred's pulsating jugular. If Alfred moved an inch, the thing would be on him in an instant. The breath that wafted from the creature's mouth was putrid, making Alfred's eyes run, blinding him. It was so close…he couldn't hold it up anymore…

The sickening sound of metal striking a skull rang out, and with a pop that filled the store the man's head exploded in a spray of gore. Instantly the struggling infected slumped, its weight crashing onto Alfred with a violent crash. Struggling as his lungs instantly felt the pressure, he clenched his eyes shut against the blood dripping down his face.

"_Ai Dios mío_…Alfred are you ok?" Antonio's voice demanded as he hefted the dead infected off of Alfred frantically.

Not wanting to ingest any of the juices spread across his face, Alfred refused to answer until he could sit up and scrub the gunk rushing down his face with his sleeve. The smell was putrid, filling his nose with a burning sensation and sliding across his skin in slow moving rivers.

"Peachy." Alfred grunted through his clenched teeth.

"Don't open your mouth idiot…let me clean you up." Arthur ordered. About to ask what he meant Alfred felt his mouth clamp shut as Arthur began to vigorously scrub at his face with what felt to be a disinfecting wipe. "My God you _reek_." Arthur gagged as he intensified his scouring with enough force to make Alfred yelp.

After a few more moments of scrubbing and primping, Alfred allowed himself to open his eyes, feeling both clean and mutilated. Squinting up at the scowling Arthur he grinned sheepishly, wincing when Arthur bopped him upside the head furiously.

"Keep an eye out my foot you stupid cunt!" Arthur snarled, grabbing Alfred by the ear and towing him painfully to his feet. "You scared me half to death! Are you suicidal? How could you be so careless?" Alfred let the man rant for a minute, his eyes flickering to where a few moments before Francis had been helping him load water.

"Where did Francis go? I thought he checked this room." Alfred muttered, receiving instant silence from Arthur. If he had been right there, he would have been in the best position to help him, not seeing the man concerned Alfred deeply.

"Is something wrong?" The familiar French accent drew their attention to a few aisles down the hall. "Alfred…I heard the noise are you alright?" He demanded. Instantly, Alfred saw Antonio bristle angrily beside him. Stalking forward, the Spaniard jabbed the Frenchman in the chest.

"No thanks to you! He almost died because of you bastardo!" As if startled at Antonio's angry outburst, Francis looked taken aback.

"_Moi?"_ He demanded, crossing his arms across his chest. "I merely pointed the bottles out to him, I was nowhere near him when the creature attacked. I had moved on to look for the rest of the supplies. How dare you accuse me?" Francis snarled, standing up straighter so he could leer down at the much shorter man. Instantly terrified of the menacing glance, Antonio began fidgeting nervously, but managed to keep his glare directed up at the man. "Obviously you are paranoid and starting to look at those around you as enemies, isn't that right _mon petite Espagnole_?" He demanded, his eyes sparkling. "A truly dangerous problem…perhaps we should have left _you_ behind?" Antonio shirked away noticeably.

"Leave him alone Francis." Alfred scolded, pulling Antonio back towards him. "And Antonio chill, if he wasn't near me it wasn't his fault." Francis shot Antonio a cocky look and grinned, a sickeningly sweet smirk.

"Oui…I meant no harm to come to Alfred. I am only sorry I could not have been close enough to help." Antonio scowled, holding back the urge to demand if he wanted to help Alfred or the infected.

"See Antonio? Calm down ok? I think we've done enough here…let's head up to that clinic and get the hell out of this place." Alfred reasoned, dragging Antonio away from Francis forcefully. Reluctantly, Antonio followed.

~X~

The survivor camp located in the center of the small isolated town of Thompson Falls was the home to just over 150 survivors living within its walls. Going from a town more focused with hunting, fishing, and farming, to a militaristic society in just under a week. Bordered by a river on two sides, it was an easily defensible location. The townsfolk had seen to the construction of a wall almost immediately to protect the remaining two sides as well as the bridge that served as the only gateway across the great chasm and river below.

Matthew had to admit he was impressed by the construction work. In just under two weeks the men and women of the town had evolved a plain chain-link fence to a literal wall. Standing at just over fifteen feet tall, it was complete with areas of flat cement on top for the men on sentry duty to stand.

The area of the fence that Matthew and his new companions approached was set up with a steel grate fence that opened outward instead of inward. Vash waited impatiently just in front of the grate, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel of his impressively sized truck impatiently until the men on top of the fence leapt to shove open the gate.

"You're going to love it here!" Ausie beamed excitedly the moment Vash's truck began to roll forward into the town. "We have plenty of food and supplies, and everyone does just about the same amount of work." He put in, throwing open his door the moment Vash pulled into one of the vacant spots just outside of a small gift shop. Matthew followed after him hesitantly, feeling a smile pull at his lips at the sight of the bustling town.

Men and women bustled around in the streets busily, their minds focused on whatever task they were set to. Children and dogs, to his delight, were also present in the town.

The dogs seemed to be happy within the confines of the small space, their tails waving and tongues lolling out of their mouths as they trotted alongside their masters.

On the other hand, the children were not the excited happy bundles he was accustomed to. These children had cold untrusting eyes. Even the youngest appeared to be haunted and on edge. Their clothes were patched and their skin chaffed from the ever present winter wind. Those that were old enough to work helped their elders with basic tasks such as sewing and cooking for the population. Those who were not old enough, played inside under the constant watch of a heavily armed teenager with dark skin, eyes, and two black pigtails that flowed down her back.

The children were all inside the small gift shop, and it was into the gift shop that Vash led him. Vash simply nodded at the girl before he rushed into the back room, followed quickly by a delighted squeal from a child.

"Big brother!"

Chuckling at the excited squeal, Ausie waved at the black haired girl in greeting and instantly received a grin in return. Bouncing up to the group with the children in tow she extended a hand for Matthew to shake.

"Hello!" She exclaimed happily, the children peering out from behind her flowing blue blouse. "My name is Sey!" Matthew smiled as he accepted her hand, feeling truly welcome for the first time.

"I'm Matthew." He returned, as she wheeled to face Ausie and Roderick with an expectant grin on her face.

"Where'd you find this one?" She demanded, the wide eyes of the children demanding answers beside her. Roderick sighed and ran a hand through his tousled brown hair.

"We found him inside Helena of all places." The shocked looks on the children's faces were enough to prove that Matthew's group had been just as insane as he was beginning to believe it was.

"He was hiding under the bed from the creepity crawlies!" Ausie chuckled, kneeling down so he could be swarmed by the children. Giggling at the idea of a full grown man hiding under a bed, the children stared up at Ausie expecting a continuation of this story. "Luckily he was smart enough to speak up because he surprised me so much that I nearly blasted him in the face, I did." Soon enough, the Australian was recanting the story in an enthusiastic fashion that left the children stunned. Roderick took the chance to pull Matthew to the side, dragging him to where Vash had disappeared to.

"Now that we're back here, I want to get a better look at your injuries." Roderick insisted, nodding to Vash, who was sitting at a desk with a small girl beside him, and gesturing for Matthew to sit on one of the beds they had set up in the back of the shop.

"Is that the man you found big brother?" The little girl, a cheery blonde seven year old with big green eyes and a ribbon in her hair, demanded of Vash as she kicked her tiny feet against the desk.

"Mhmm…" Vash nodded, already going over a few charts and maps sprawled out across his desk.

"You may take of your coat and shoes now." He waved at the man impatiently until Matthew wised up and shrugged off the items in question. "Now, if you wouldn't mind showing me your ankle?" Vash ordered moving so that he blocked the view from the child as Matthew rolled down his sock.

"Roderick, do you think we should even try Great Falls for supplies?" Vash demanded, tapping his pen on a map thoughtfully.

"Not in the slightest." Roderick grunted as he prodded at the wound much to Matthew's irritation and discomfort. "This will become infected if we don't treat it…Lilly my dear would you please fetch me a few alcohol swabs?" He ordered, instantly the girl scrambled into action in search of the needed item.

"But if we don't go to some of the bigger cities eventually our stock will start suffering. You already said no to Missoula….where else would we get supplies?" Vash demanded as he placed an x through one of the cities with a scowl.

"Thank you Lilly." Roderick smiled as the girl handed him the swab. "We will just have to focus on smaller cities in the area until spring when we can start tilling the land." He continued, without once looking at Vash. Matthew felt oddly left out of the scene as Roderick expertly stitched and bandaged his leg while also debating further actions of the town. The scene was so surprisingly organized, even when one of the other townsfolk rushed in with some urgent question or another, that Matthew began to wonder how on Earth his own group had made it as far as they did without someone like Roderick or Vash to lead them.

Alfred was a decent leader, he knew that, but he lacked the control and thoughtfulness that both Roderick and Vash had. It was as if he had entered a meeting between two world leaders not into a thrown together chat between two survivors.

"Did you get the list of supplies from Jorge?" Roderick demanded, "He was supposed to take a basic count while I was gone." Patting Matthew's knee to let him know he was finished Roderick turned to Vash and accepted the file that he was holding.

Matthew was left sitting on the bed questioningly, not sure what to do while the man continued their hushed conversation.

"You can lay down you know." Jumping at the small voice suddenly peeping up from behind him, Matthew turned to the smiling Lilly. "Roderick wants you to rest…he probably assumed you knew that you could sleep here." She explained, rocking on her heels. Matthew nodded slowly, shooting a look at the men still calmly speaking together before lowering himself back onto his borrowed pillow.

He was pleasantly surprised when Lilly pulled the blanket up and over him and smiling like a doting mother, gently kissed him on the forehead.

"Good night Mr. Matthew."

~X~X~X~

**Seems Matthew has found a relatively safe place to live, but for the rest of them: There's still more drama on the horizon.**

**I am loving all the reviews and general interest in this story! Only 4 more reviews and I'll start taking requests! **

**OH! I forgot to mention the fact that you should keep an eye out for a new cover picture that I will be uploading any day now. Trying to figure out this new picture thing on Fanfic…**


	20. Torn Apart

**Warnings: Gore, angst, and character death. **

It seemed as if they were doomed to fail.

The clinic was a tiny building, but in such a small town they had expected no more. Of course, what really set them reeling was the fact that a good portion of the once important building had been burnt to the ground. The fire must have been recent, because the ash still radiated a small amount of heat as they approached; still, snow had already put out the flames as well as coated the majority of the building in a thin layer of the white powder.

Standing in the frigid wind, their shoulders throbbing under the weight of the supplies they had plundered from the store, the group could only gape as a majority of their hopes crumbled into ash before them.

"What are the damn odds?" Arthur wailed, his bag slumping to the ground with a thud that startled his companions back to alertness. "Do you hate me? Honestly?" He demanded of the sky, half expecting the clouds to release a bolt of lightning to finish him off for good.

"Calm down Iggy, we haven't even searched the place." Alfred reasoned, lifting Arthur's pack and extending it back to him. "Tino, Antonio, stay out here with the supplies and cart." Alfred ordered, pulling his katana from the sheath at his side.

"I'd rather not…" Antonio squeaked, his eyes instantly flicking to Francis. "I'll go with you! Francis should stay out here." He insisted, shoving Francis towards Tino who instantly draped an arm across the Frenchman's shoulders. Alfred stared at the trio in confusion, his mouth twitching in amusement at the look of annoyance on Francis' face.

"Alright little buddy if you want to come that's fine. Francis, do you mind?" Alfred demanded shooting a look at Francis, who shrugged.

"If it would ease his mind, I do not mind remaining outside." The Frenchman pointed out as he sat against one of the bags with a thump.

"Thanks for being understanding." Alfred grinned as he turned and began to trudge towards the opening in the burnt out hospital. "Keep an eye out for anything that looks…medicinal." Alfred urged quietly.

"Alright, then you keep an eye out for the infected, let's not have another misadventure like in the blasted grocery store." Arthur insisted, shifting nervously from foot to foot as Alfred rolled his eyes noticeably and began to push his way through the ash into the remaining section of the clinic.

Cautiously, Alfred began picking his way through the broken glass and burnt plaster. All around him the ceiling creaked and groaned under the pressure of the snow above. He supposed that one of the largest risks would be the roof caving in on top of them, but once they reached the part of the building where the flames had barely scorched the inside he found that their chances of being crushed diminished instantly.

"The cabinets are still intact." Arthur's hopeful statement caught Alfred's attention immediately. Turning towards where the Englishman was rummaging through some charred but still intact cabinetry, he quickly rushed to his side gesturing for Antonio to keep an eye out for unseen dangers.

"These seem untouched." Arthur declared lifting up some of the pill bottles for Alfred to inspect.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure what we're going to do with Alzheimer's medicine Iggy." Alfred teased, pointing at the label with a wink.

"Sod off git." Arthur barked, continuing to rummage through the prescriptions in search of the needed medicine.

"Hey look!" Antonio suddenly cheered behind them, turning in surprise the felt their eyebrows twitch as he held out his prize. "Lollypops!" He beamed, stuffing one of the sugary treats into his mouth, extending the basket out to Alfred and Arthur. Alfred laughed quietly at his eagerness and plucked one from the jar. Arthur on the other hand glared and returned to rifling through the cabinets.

"Could you focus please?" Arthur ordered harshly. Chuckling softly, Alfred and Antonio continued to sift through their own section.

There was a painfully small amount of actual medicines in the small clinic seeing as usually a medicine was prescribed by a clinic, but picked up elsewhere, but after about half an hour of constant searching they had collected a sufficient amount of supplies.

They stuffed everything that seemed useful into their packs: rolls of gauze, alcohol swabs, Band-Aids, ibuprofen, aspirin, latex gloves, even a few sterilized gloves and a thermometer. Still they couldn't find the antibiotics.

"There has to be some in here! What sort of clinic is this?" Arthur howled as he threw yet another bottle of antacid aside. Alfred sighed as he dodged the projectile, patting Arthur on the shoulder calmly.

"Listen Iggy…even if we don't find it, I'm sure that Iain will be…"

"Is amox…amoxi…cillin…amoxicillin an antibiotic?" Antonio suddenly chirped up from the corner of the room where he was squatting, holding a small ash coated box in his hand. Arthur was immediately on his feet, tripping over himself in his rush to reach Antonio.

"Yes it's an antibiotic!" He yelped, snatching the box from Antonio and scanning over the box eagerly. "Antonio this is exactly what we were looking for!" He cheered, throwing his arms around the man's neck as he stood laughing. "Thank God for your poor attention span!" Antonio blinked, patting Arthur awkwardly on the back.

"Is that a complement?" He asked blushing wildly. Laughing Arthur pulled away with a grin that nearly split his face in two clutching the antibiotics to his chest elatedly. Alfred shrugged when the Antonio shot him a questioning look.

"Let's just say it is for now." He suggested. Still embarrassed, Antonio grinned slightly before pulling out one of the lollypops he had stuffed in jacket and plopping it into his mouth. "Then we can leave now?" He demanded, eyeing the ecstatic Arthur warily.

"Yes we can…" The sound of shouting outside broke off Alfred's speech, and without hesitating, Alfred snatched up his bag and sprinted from the room.

"Alfred we got trouble!" Tino bellowed as he burst out of the clinic. Francis nodded in agreement when Alfred shot him a questioning look.

"It seems there is a small horde headed this way." He pointed out, pulling a cigarette from his jacket and lighting it emotionlessly.

"A small horde my foot!" Tino barked, grabbing onto Alfred and wheeling him around while shoving his binoculars into his hands. "There are at least thirty of the fuckers coming from the South and they're headed this way. They haven't spotted us yet, but there is no way in hell I'm sticking around to wait until they do." Alfred swore as he examined the horde, a relatively healthy looking bunch that moved more swiftly than their frozen counterparts. Lumbering down the hill, with nostrils that flared and eyes that searched hungrily across the plains it was easy enough to determine that they were looking for prey and they wouldn't stop until they found it.

"Where did they come from Tino? How did they get so close?" Alfred demanded angrily, snatching up his bags and grabbing ahold of the cart full of water.

"They just started poking out of the trees. I'm a sniper, not a good! I can't see through trees." Tino bellowed as they started trotting towards the docks, attempting not to trip across the ice coated ground.

"Fine then! How much time do we have?" Alfred questioned, catching a hold of Arthur when he started to stumble and pulling him to his feet. Tino pondered for a moment, shooting a glance at the infected already bearing down on the far end of the town.

"Five minutes tops." Tino admitted, "We should be fine as long as we…oof." A screech filled the air even as he spoke and Alfred barely had time to pull the Finn out of the way as an Infected woman came screaming out of the houses.

Kicking the woman back with a growl, Alfred shoved himself in front of his team. Drawing his katana and dropping his belongings as the woman whirled and leapt to her feet instantly.

With a shriek of challenge the woman ran forward. Her teeth bared and blood from a blow that had detached half of her lower jaw still coated her mouth and clung to her decaying teeth. Alfred leapt back and tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword.

Biting the inside of his cheek he swung just as the woman lunged for him. To his absolute horror, the blade swung and missed, falling just short of the woman's half-eaten shoulder. Alfred yelped as he drew the sword back and made contact with the side of her chest. The hard steel cut through tendons and bone alike as Alfred yanked upwards. Blood spurted from the wound in a wave, the remainder of her right arm severing with a crack.

Her arm splattering to the ground with a wet thump the woman screeched in fury and lurched for him again. Lashing out, Alfred grabbed for her outstretched arm and slung her over his back onto the ground.

With a crack that resounded across the street, she crashed into the ground with a sickening crunch. Still undeterred and with a neck that hung limply to the side, she was on her feet within seconds. Alfred had only turned to see the woman snapping at him, her boney hand groping for his arm and snatching his wrist.

Swearing, Alfred slashed downwards at her and severed the arm attached to him as well.

Taking a few steps back Alfred leveled the blade directly at her head and leapt forward, driving the sword through the creatures pale neck.

Much to his growing frustration, she was still snapping at him, her overgrown fingernails scraping along his arms in a weak attempt to gain access to the fresh meal. Scowling, Alfred turned the blade and thrust up slicing her head in two.

Blood spurted from the woman's body in a spray, coating Alfred in the sticky liquid as he backed away panting and covering his eyes.

Once he was sure she had finally stopped moving, he turned around to meet the gazes of the others.

Alfred winked at them grinning sheepishly, Tino nodded at him in thanks as he approached. Next to the Finn, Arthur sighed in relief as he rushed forward to assure he was alright. Smirking cockily, Alfred wiped the blood from his face as the Englishman scanned him for injury.

"Must you continually test the strength of my nerves?" Arthur demanded, looking furiously down at a small cut on Alfred wrist that oozed slowly across his gloves. "Did she bite you?" He questioned, lifting up the cut for him to examine.

"Chill out Iggy, I'm fine." Arthur frowned still concerned, but Alfred smiled at him turned back to the others, "Shall we carry one?" Tino shrugged,

"Back to the boat, everybody." He insisted, "We have everything we came in here for and that's what matters right?" They all nodded, "Fine, then let's get out of here before any more of those things get here." He instructed, turning to leave.

Antonio and Francis trailed quickly after him, but before Alfred could follow he felt a light tug on his arm. Smiling he turned with a gentle expression lighting up his face to see what Iggy needed,

"I'm worried." The short man confessed. Alfred raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "Iain, I mean, what if he doesn't get better? What if injury gives you a chance of catching the illness without having been bit?" Alfred patted Arthur's head as comfortingly as he could muster,

"Listen, we've got everything Feliciano told us to get and more! With everyone back at home taking care of him he will be up and on his feet before the week is out." Arthur didn't look convinced but still he nodded. Alfred wrapped a quick arm around his shoulder and began to lead him back towards the others. When Arthur seemed reluctant to follow, Alfred turned towards him once again. "Iain will be fine. There's nothing to worry about okay?" Arthur nodded again and sighing Alfred wrapped him in a quick hug. Arthur didn't return the gesture, but Alfred felt him relax slightly. Satisfied, Alfred unwrapped his arms from around Arthur's figure, "Now, come on before they leave without us!" Alfred tugged on Arthur's elbow and led him back towards the remainder of the impatient looking group.

"Welcome back." Tino called back to them, "Arthur, come up here with me, I want you to cover the right okay? We already got everyone else situated, so Alfred take the center and watch for anything someone might miss." Alfred chuckled and moved to his position.

"Jeez Tino, you sure you ain't in charge?" Alfred joked; smiling Tino gave him a small thumbs-up before taking his place at the tip of the makeshift diamond they had formed.

"The boat is just about a mile down that road." Alfred pointed towards a rusted stop sign up ahead. Nodding, Tino began shifting towards the direction, everyone else falling into the pace he was setting. "Don't take it too quick Tino, there's a couple down over to the left." Alfred called up to the speeding Finn who instantly slowed down.

Cautiously, the company snuck around five stagnant infected sprawled out under a tree, and began to make their way towards the dock standing only about one hundred feet in front of them.

Antonio was slipping from nervous to near panic; he could openly admit that he was even more on edge with Francis in back of everyone where he couldn't see him. Why had Tino arranged them that way? Did he have a death wish? No, no, he was just being paranoid.

_What do you think Jesus? _He asked, but before he could manage even as much as a word in response Antonio spotted a tall stumbling infected near the dock, entirely awake and he had obviously seen them.

"Zombie on the left!" He called to the group; they all turned in unison to see the enormous man blundering towards them, his limp arms swinging at his sides like a metronome.

It was Antonio who stepped forward this time bringing up the ax he had strung on his back forward. "Let me get this one." He offered when automatically Alfred stepped forward with his Katana raised.

Alfred nodded, and with that Antonio rushed forward and met the over-sized infected half way. He straightened and kicked up landing a thick boot into the stomach of his opponent. It hardly caused him to stumble so Antonio took the next shot and rammed the butt of his ax into the monster's head causing him, this time, to loose almost all of his balance. Antonio swung up again with his foot sending it to land firmly on his neck with enough force to snap bone.

The force sent the infected spiraling backwards. With a roar the creature staggered to the ground and smashed his head against the pavement. Antonio hoisted the ax up over his shoulder and swung it down into the skull of the zombie, shattering the bone and breaking through the brain.

All movements and floundering ceased as Antonio withdrew his ax with a grunt and turned back to the group. Alfred shot him a quick two thumbs up as Antonio moved back into his position.

"Very nice." Arthur complimented from the other side of Alfred.

"I try." Antonio responded with and began to move forward under the command of Alfred.

"Here we are!" Alfred cheered as they began to file onto the wood of the dock. It was unusually quite without as much as the moans of the now sleeping infected to stifle the silence. Nervously, the group began piling the supplies into the boat.

Alfred had opted to take watch, standing just off of the dock next to the cart with his sword in hand.

"That's the last of it." Tino declared the moment he finished securing the supplies into the boat. "We can start heading back, you guys ready?" He demanded as he leapt onto the boat. Exhaustedly, the group nodded, starting to make their way to the boat with feet that dragged against the deck.

Alfred shrugged, lifting his bag from the ground with a nervous shot over his shoulder.

"Let's go Francis!" he ordered the Frenchman still watching the infected approach curiously. Glaring, Francis reluctantly moved to Alfred's side.

Feeling relief well up in his chest, Antonio turned to follow with a grin, but paused as a grunt broke through the silence. Startled, he heard a small gasp and spun around to see what had made the very human noise.

It took a moment for his eyes to understand what was happening, his mind working out the situation in horror. With a sudden rush of realization, he felt his heart burst as he made out Alfred's figure.

At first it seemed as if he had tripped, stumbled maybe. Either way, Alfred slumped over onto the ground without as much as a sound.

He landed on his shoulder heavily, collapsing forward onto his chest silently. Antonio felt a shout leave his throat as he spotted a large bloody slit cut open on the brown of his jacket. The blood pouring from the gash slowly dying the white of the '50' printed on his jacket a dark crimson.

Out of the corner of his eye, Antonio spotted a gory blade swinging at his face. Screaming he danced away yowling when the blade sliced through his arm as he lifted it to defend himself.

Stumbling backwards, Antonio lifted his pistol and fired blindly.

The bullet made contact with human flesh and Francis toppled over with a scream clutching the open oozing wound on his chest.

"ALFRED!" Arthur, alerted by the commotion, screamed as he threw himself from the boat. Dodging around the writhing Francis, Arthur dropped to the ground with a wail, attempting to bring the head of the motionless man onto his lap.

Alfred's eyes flickered to Arthur's horrified face and blinked, his eyes demanding to know what was happening. When he spotted the tears streaking across Arthur's face, he seemed to understand. Slowly he lifted a gloved hand to Arthur's face and pressed his palm to his long-time friend's cheek. Arthur clutched his fingers in his own, sobbing plaintively.

"Please Alfred…please." He whispered, clutching at Alfred's hand. "Don't…you're ok." Wheezing Alfred attempted to form words slowly as blood began to trickle out of the corners of his open mouth. Arthur's eyes widened in horror as Alfred struggled to speak, but finding words failing him, simply smiled up at Arthur. "Alfred? Alfred don't go…you're going to be fine…Alfred look at me!"

Then, with a last effort for air, his heaving chest grew still. Alfred's pale blue eyes stared lifelessly up at the cloud covered sky, seeing through the man who was shouting frantically that he stay alive. Alfred's hand loosened its grip on the hilt of his sword allowing it to roll away from him. Slowly his hand fell away from Arthur's face, slipping from the other man's grasp and across his own chest.

"Oh God, please don't do this." Arthur begged, clutching Alfred to his shoulder and burying his face in his snow encrusted hair. "Alfred please…Alfred don't leave me."

"He-he killed Matthew." A strained voice panted next to him. "I hope God damns him to Hell for his sin." Francis spat blood splattering against the pavement.

Tino and Antonio swore they could hear something snap inside Arthur.

With eyes that blazed, Arthur's head snapped up to scowl at Francis murderously.

"You bastard!" Arthur screamed, as he slid Alfred off of his lap. With a single, unstoppable motion Arthur drew out his gun and leveled it at Francis's face. Francis smirked up at the barrel, his eyes filled with madness.

"Kill me if you will! I will just be with mon fils all the more swiftly." Francis laughed, sending infuriated shudders through Arthur's form. The Englishman screamed in fury as he lowered the gun and instead blasted the man in the stomach.

A look of shock filled Francis' face as the pain registered in his mind. Curling on the ground, he howled in agony as Arthur leapt forward with a scream intending to rip Francis apart with his bare hands.

"Arthur, no!" Tino screamed, finally coming to his senses at the sound of the second shot. Lurching forward he ensnared Arthur. To his distress, the man instantly began to screech, fight, and bite at the Finn's arms in order to be released. Somehow, Tino managed to keep a hold on him and with a grunt of effort began to pull him towards the boat. "Antonio hurry up! The infected, they were attracted by the shot!"

Antonio didn't even as much as glance at the Finn as he stared unbelievingly at the smoking gun in his hands.

He had shot a human.

He had personally put a bullet into human flesh.

Why? He didn't even know.

Antonio was going to Hell.

_Antonio YOU are going to Hell. _

That's all he could comprehend as he watched the smoke rise from the gun.

Tino groaned in anguish as the man remained rooted to the spot. Turning to the hysterically thrashing Arthur he made a decision he hoped he wouldn't regret later. Grabbing ahold of his gun he bashed the hilt against Arthur's head. Instantly the man slumped, unconscious. Dropping him into the boat with a grunt, Tino rushed from the boat and over to the Spaniard still frozen in place.

Slipping an arm under Antonio's shoulders he hefted the man onto his back. Shooting a glance up at the now sprinting infected he swore: they had spotted them.

"Come on little buddy, don't give up on me now." He ordered as Antonio buried his face into Tino's back with a silent sob. Turning to the boat, he nearly fell over something he had taken no notice of before.

The katana sat in the snow coated dock, its blade still streaked with blood and gore. Hesitantly, Tino scooped down and lifted the blade from the ground. Slipping it into his belt he shot one last glance at Alfred and Francis and the infected that were slowly creeping towards them.

"Damn…" He swore as the infected began stumbling down the hill with shrieks of hunger. Francis chuckled behind him, making him turn.

"The infected do not touch the dead…it is the only mercy God shows us in this world left to hell." Francis pointed out, looking calm and logical for the first time in weeks. "Do you not suppose…that a man who has committed such a deed…still deserves some mercy?" He demanded through bloodied lips, holding his gun grip first towards the Finn. When Tino said nothing and made no move towards the weapon, Francis sighed. "Perhaps not…" He decided, slipping back onto his back. "Then this is goodbye." He nodded at Tino, before lifting his and placing it to his own skull.

Tino didn't have the heart to watch. Rushing to the boat he gently placed Antonio inside and detached the mooring line with trembling hands just as the gun blast filled the air. Blinking back tears, Tino shoved the boat off the dock, grabbing onto the oars just as the infected reached the dock.

Screaming, the infected began spilling over the edge, their forms splashing and sinking into the water almost instantly. Rowing desperately, Tino turned away from the disaster. Lying at his feet, he could barely make out tears streaming down the unconscious Arthur's face.

~X~X~X~

**Excuse me will I go into a spiraling depression…This literally had to be the hardest chapter to write this far. With their leader gone, who will step up to the plate to move the survivors forward? How will Arthur react to such a loss? These questions answered and many more in the next installment. **

** So…we reached the 50 review mark. So as promised, I will start taking requests for additional background stories. **

**Oh and special thanks go out to Ms. Britain who went out of her way to make a trailer for this fanfic! I can't thank you enough! **

**If you're interested here's the link!**

** watch?v=yEprC2_KGvA&feature=plcp**

**Review Please**


	21. Home Coming

**Over a WEEK without updates? I am a terrible person…**

**Stay Alive Till Morning now has cover photos for each chapter that I will be uploading onto my Deviantart account every couple of days! Comment, Favorite, Enjoy! **

** americancosplayer. deviantart gallery /38013499**

**Warnings: Gore and angst. **

The radio, their one source of communication between Tino's companions and the other survivors: was still sitting on the zombie infested dock.

Tino hadn't thought about it at the time, in fact it had probably been the last thing on his mind, but now that he was safely out of the infected's reach and he had given his mind time to clear, he felt his despair turn to anguish. Tossing out an anchor barely a thirty feet away from the dock, Tino sat back against his seat with a groan.

In his current position, there was no way he could haul both men up the hill never mind the boatload of supplies that was desperately needed just four miles uphill from where he was currently floating just off shore. To top it all off, from where he was sitting Tino could see the sun gradually dipping lower behind the black mountain peaks. He knew that as soon as the sun disappeared completely the already glacial temperature would dip until it reached dangerously below freezing.

Antonio was already shivering violently beside him, his glazed over eyes locked firmly on his hands. He was so completely unresponsive, that Tino had been able to check, bandage, and recover the wound on his shoulder without so much as a squeak of pain from the Spaniard. This worried Tino, he knew that the poor boy had a very thin grasp on his sanity to begin with, but if he had finally snapped he had no idea how long he would be able to keep the boy alive.

Arthur wasn't much better. After Tino had knocked him unconscious, he had ensured Arthur remained in a stable comatose state by administering a small dosage of morphine they had taken from the hospital. After his episode on the dock, Tino wasn't sure he wanted him to wake up just yet. He had already removed the boy's weapons, but he wasn't sure that the boy wouldn't try something stupid anyway given the chance.

Rubbing his forehead furiously, Tino edged himself to Antonio's side. He figured it would be best to tackle at least one problem before he lost all the feeling in his hands. Also, if he could get Antonio back to his senses, he would have another set of capable hands to aid him up the hill if it came down to such an effort.

Antonio didn't look at him as Tino reached out and gently patted his knee. Sighing, Tino thought of words that would comfort the man, but found that he was lacking the knowledge to form them. He wasn't sure what was going through the man's mind only that whatever it was, it was torturing Antonio inside his own mind.

"It wasn't your fault you know." Tino whispered after a moment, hearing his own voice in the once eerie silence was enough to make him flinch. Antonio on the other hand seemed unfazed, his jade eyes fixated on the rocking floor of the boat. "Antonio, what happened back there…" Tino paused as grief welled up in his throat, hindering his speech. "…It…it was something out of your control. If I had known…if I had just listened to you a little more, taken Francis a bit more seriously then maybe this would have ended differently. If anyone is at fault here it's me. I should have had a better watch on Francis." Antonio didn't seem to be listening at all as Tino continued. "Antonio, I don't know what's wrong with you, and I can't fix it if you don't tell me."

Antonio seemed inclined to not respond to Tino's plea, and instead curled further in on himself his lips quivering.

Sighing, Tino reached out and pulled Antonio into a hug. The man did nothing to resist, and instead simply flopped against Tino as the Finn enfolded him in his grasp. Tino had no idea what was going through the young man's mind, but after a moment of being wrapped in Tino's arms the boy began to sniffle and then to sob into Tino's coat. Reaching up he clung to Tino's jacket as crystalline tears streamed down his face.

"They s…stopped!" Antonio wailed, obviously taking no notice of the volume of his cries and the danger they might create. "They won't talk to me! They won't speak to me anymore!" Tino shot a glance at the shore in panic and immediately planted his hand across Antonio's mouth to stifle his howls.

"Antonio! Antonio, hush! You don't want to lead them here! Antonio calm down!" He begged as the man's stifled whimpers continued to fill the air through his hand. "Shut UP!" Tino snarled lashing out with his free hand to strike the man across the face. Instantly, Antonio's wails went silent. "I know that you are out of your mind, but please tell me that you still have the basic common sense to know that what you are doing is going to get us killed!" Tino snarled quietly as he grabbed ahold of Antonio's shoulders and began to shake him roughly.

As his body lurched back and forward like a rag doll, Antonio's eyes seemed to gain a sense of understanding that Tino had never seen before in the man's eyes. It was as if some light was beginning to glow just behind his eyes as Tino attempted to shake sense back into him.

"Are you done?" Tino hissed, flinging Antonio back against the edge of the boat. The man landed with a thud, striking his shoulder against the helm. Frantically, Antonio nodded. Relieved that he had finally got the man to calm, Tino sat back on his heals minding that he didn't get too close to the edge. "Now, we've got a long night ahead of us on this boat…so, before I throw you off the boat in order to keep the infected away, why don't you tell me _softly_ who stopped talking to you?" Tino demanded, reaching into one of the backpacks and producing a bottle of vodka to steady his nerves.

He kept his gaze firmly on Antonio, who continued to lie sprawled out against the edge of the boat, his hand clenched around some unknown object in his hand. Taking a long draft from his vodka, Tino leaned forward and extended his hand, palm up, towards Antonio.

The Spaniard seemed to understand what he was looking for, and reluctantly deposited his possession into Tino's hand.

Sitting back up again, Tino lifted the object up to examine calmly noting the anxiety that immediately shaped itself in Antonio's features.

In the dim light, he could barely make out the features of what he could tell was a small statue, but once he did he felt a dull understanding well up in his chest. Sighing, Tino sat back and extended the object back to Antonio. Gratefully Antonio snatched the hand carved statue of the Virgin Mary and deposited it into his pocket carefully. Shooting a look back up at Tino, he began to fidget as he waited for Tino to speak again.

Tino took his time in responding to the man's desperate look, taking another long draft from the burning liquid and glancing at the shore as he thought of a decent response.

"They didn't abandon you." Antonio blinked as Tino spoke, shifting forward so that he was sitting cross legged on the floor; he waited for him to continue. "They aren't mad that you hurt Francis... I know that I can't know that for sure, and don't take my word as a hundred percent accurate, but you can't let this beat you. You don't hear their voices anymore because you don't need them." He was scrambling for words, he had never dealt with anyone hearing voices before and he had no idea how Antonio might react to certain statements.

Despite all that, Antonio did seem to be calmer. He watched Tino's flustered speech with could almost be described as amusement, and gradually seemed to be relaxing.

After a short while, Antonio had relaxed enough for him to consider him lucid. Satisfied, he sighed, and decided to take a small rest before working out a plan for completing the four mile hike up the snow and infected covered hill. Sitting back against the edge of the boat with a huff, Tino shivered slightly as a gust of wind brushed against him. The sun had dipped behind the rows of mountains, turning the cloud covered blue sky shades of pinks and purples as the last rays of sunlight struggled to shine from behind the hills. The view almost brought a smile to Tino's face, but subconsciously something was demanding he keep himself alert and focused. His vision was drawn away from the sky as he spotted a flash across the river bank. Sitting up, he squinted to see a figure on the side of the water.

In a dirty white winter jacket, a single infected woman dashed alongside the water. She was moving faster, much faster than any infected Tino had seen before. As if the disease took no toll from her physically where the others had been ravaged until they could barely move, she dashed across the road snarling and hissing at the air.

"Good God." Tino whispered scrambling to get more of a view of the strange infected. The creature howled and snarled from the shoreline, slashing at the air savagely as a bird flitted to close to her claw like hands.

"What the hell is it?" Antonio demanded, peering over Tino's shoulder. "Tino?"

"I…I don't know." Tino's voice rasped out as the creature released a scream that shook snow from the trees above her and sent birds fleeing from their treetop homes. "But I don't want anything to do with it."

~X~

"Have we heard anything?" Iain whispered as Feliciano changed out his bandages. The small man looked up and flashed him a large toothy smile, examining his stitches discerningly.

"Nothing, but I'm sure they're fine. They'll be home soon." He assured him, testing his needle before moving to repair any damaged stitches. Iain snorted, glaring over the Italian's shoulder towards the door angrily.

"They better be…Ow! Would yah stop stabbin' me, you bastard?" He cursed making Feliciano giggle much to his irritation.

"I'm all done, grumpy." Feliciano smiled, "Now why don't you take a nap, it'll make you feel better!" Feliciano patted Iain's leg and then stood, packing all of his supplies into the bright red pack once again. Iain shot him a withering look, but Feliciano seemed not to notice as he moved away from him with a laugh. Grumbling miserably, Iain waited until the boy disappeared outside the barn before slumping against his pillow exhaustedly.

He had no urge for the Italian to see him actually taking his advice, but a nap sounded like a relatively decent idea. Leaning back he sealed his eyes for a brief moment, expecting that he would fall almost immediately into a heavy sleep.

Unfortunately, as soon as he started as much as drifting away, he began to hear a low rumble of a conversation growing louder as it approached the outside of the barn.

"He is taking too long! The American needs to return before tomorrow morning or I will be leaving." Ivan's voice was calm, yet still had an intimidating ring to it. Iain brought himself upwards to listen, straining to hear what he was talking about.

"Ivan, can't you just wait a couple more days? You don't need to leave in the right now do you?" Iain blinked, so it was Gilbert he was arguing with. The gruff German sounded on the verge of screaming at the Russian as they stood just outside the barn door.

"Ja, Ivan, listen to what you're saying! You plan on abandoning us when our numbers are so low?" Ludwig joined in furiously. Curious, Iain scrambled out of bed and stepped forward towards the door. The straw covering the floor just beside the door was rough and freezing against his bare feet, but he took not notice. Pressing his ear against the slit in the door, he strained to hear more of the hushed conversation.

"I can wait no longer, our movements were hindered enough when your group arrived, and I will not allow my family to be held back any longer." Ivan snapped, his voice growing angrier as he spoke.

"Where are you going? Why would you leave when you have a secure home here?" Gilbert demanded his voice the closest to the door. Ivan sighed heatedly, but he did not hesitate in answering the man.

"We are heading towards large base that we have been hearing about over the radio. We have been in contact with their leader for a long time now, conversing on the best way to get to the base from here: the safest way." The two German brothers hesitated a moment, taking in the idea of another base.

"Damn it!" Gilbert stuttered, "We shouldn't even be arguing about this! Give Alfred more time, and then we could all go together!" Iain scowled when Ivan laughed.

"You seem sure that Alfred would agree to join me, nevertheless, if he does not get here by noon tomorrow then I will be leaving with or without him." Iain could practically hear the sneer the Russian's sneer forming on his face. Iain heard Gilbert growl angrily, but the albino said nothing in retort to the Russian's suggestion.

Instead: Iain could vaguely make out the sound of footsteps angrily making their way away from the barn.

_Leaving?_ Iain wondered, stalking back to his bed. _Where the hell are they going? _Slumping against the pillow he held his arms across his face as his thoughts darted to his missing brother. _Hurry the hell up Arthur…or I'm going to come find you my damn self. _

~X~

The sun was barely peeking out from above the tree line when Tino and Antonio began preparing to make the trek up the hill. The bitter cold made rowing the boat to shore a painful ordeal. Their clothes and the boat was caked with a thin layer of ice that concerned Tino to no end, he knew they wouldn't survive another night fighting off the low temperatures brought forward by the dark.

Once ashore, Tino scanned the road feverishly in search of dangers lurking in the bushes. Finding known, he dubbed the trip a safe one, and just as the sun brought itself entirely above the horizon, the small group was ready to head out.

"Are you sure you can carry him all the way up the hill? He's the same size as you!" Tino protested as Antonio hefted Arthur onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry. Antonio grinned and nodded, shifting until Arthur was in a more comfortable position. "How did you learn how to do that?" Tino demanded, lifting his pack as well as Arthur and Antonio's and strapping them to his back.

"_Mi hermano_ was a fireman." Antonio stated bluntly, starting to hike up the snow coated road with Tino close behind him. "He taught me some of the basic skills; he hoped I would want to join the department with him if he got me interested." He continued, his boots sinking into the snow deep enough to make the hike a genuine effort.

"Did you?" Tino asked, his violet eyes flicking nervously across the tree line. Antonio laughed, shaking his head.

"Nah, I was a musician! I wasn't fond of the idea of dragging people out of burning buildings and putting out forest fires. I preferred to get my adrenaline rush on stage." Antonio's face was pink from the cold and effort as he explained, his eyes locked on the ground directly in front of him. "I had a guitar that mi madre bought me in the church; I would have grabbed it if I had more time." Tino nodded in understanding, he had left a few things behind that he wished he could bring with him as well. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a tear streak out of Antonio's eye, only to freeze on his chin and remain suspended like a diamond on his skin.

"Maybe when this is over, we could go get it." Tino offered, hoping Antonio wouldn't notice the unlikelihood of such an occurrence. Chuckling Antonio shook his head and sniffed,

"I have much more important things to worry about now. I have my family to look after, remember?" Tino felt himself stagger at Antonio's opinion. He had never considered the group as a family, but as he thought about it, he realized just how true the statement was. Over the course of a few weeks, the group had become a family not just a random group of survivors brought together by circumstance. Tino cared about each of them just as strongly as he had his own flesh and blood, they were struggling to survive, but they were surviving as a family.

Tino heard Antonio sniff and turned, feeling his heart drop as he noticed the tears streaming down the boy's face.

"I…I don't think I can handle losing anymore family, Tino." Antonio choked, releasing Arthur's arm in order to wipe off his face. Sighing, Tino reached across and patted his arm, attempting a sad smile.

"Hopefully, you won't have to." Antonio smiled a bit at the idea, nodding eagerly, though tears continued pouring down his face. Tino decided to leave him alone, deciding that it was best to just let the boy grieve as he felt necessary.

He instead began to focus wholly on their surroundings, his eyes trained on the bushes and up the road ahead of them. He had no desire to tangle with the infected if at all possible, especially with Arthur still stubbornly unconscious on Antonio's shoulders. The hill was gradually getting steeper; Tino noticed that Antonio was struggling in the deep snow the muscles in his neck straining as he stumbled through the knee deep substance.

"Let me know if you need a break." Tino ordered, his eyes not leaving the trees. Antonio chuckled next to him, shaking his head and adjusting Arthur a bit.

"We can't re…rest here: too dangerous. He'll…he'll just have to carry me up a hill sometime in return." He laughed dryly, his chapped lips cracking and bleeding when he smiled. Staggering over a particularly deep section he fought to right himself with a grunt of distress. Tino chuckled and righted the man with his free hand, pulling him upwards before he fell on his face. Antonio grinned his thanks, and continued to stagger up the hill resolutely. "It is going to be a b…big ass hill too! About…" He paused to suck in a breath. "About twice this height and c…covered in ice!" He grumbled as his feet took more and more effort to raise above the snow. "And he'll have to do it wearing roller skates!"

"I'm not sure if either of you would ever make it to the top of that hill." Tino pointed out receiving a knowing grin from Antonio.

"Si, but it would make me laugh to see him try." Tino shook his head at the diabolical sneer on Antonio's face, glad that he had found something to take his mind off of his grief.

He was about to offer that Arthur have to complete the hike while carrying him as well, when he caught the movement just up ahead of them.

Swearing he shoved Antonio to the side, so that they fell with a puff of snow behind a patch of dense trees. Rolling and clamping his hand over Antonio's mouth he forced Antonio to fall heavily into the snow, Arthur pinned beneath him painfully. Not hesitating when Antonio grunted, he dragged the two a few feet into the woods and threw himself beside the two younger men pulling a branch over them as he did.

Antonio shot him a panicked look, and opened his mouth to speak so Tino once again planted his hand across his face and pointed to the road desperately.

Only about a hundred feet away from them, a group of infected was staggering from the trees. Moaning and snarling, the monsters stumbled and growled while marching through the snow towards where Tino and his group were hiding.

His heart pounding feverishly in his ears, Tino had to stifle his own breathing his hands as he watched them approach. To his dismay, he counted a total of fifteen of the diseased people, each moving determinedly down the road they had just come from.

Clenching his eyes shut, he felt Antonio start shuddering violently beneath him as he buried his face in Tino's shoulder. Tino wished he could comfort the boy, but he knew that if he so much as moved, the infected could hear and attack them.

He could see the infecteds' shuffling feet through the bushes and trees as they stalked past, their moans filling the air. They were passing so close, that he swore he could trip one of them if he just reached out his arm.

One of the infected sweapt past the bush they were hiding in, close enough that his hand rustled through the leaves only a few inches away from Antonio's face. Tino didn't dare breathe as the creatures continued their search for prey, their nauseating stench filling their nostrils with the reek of decaying flesh, ruptured bowels, and the rotten clothes clinging to the infected in tatters.

Brushing by the branches of the bush above them another infected, this one a woman with a calf muscle that had been torn into by savage teeth, got her sleeve caught on the branches above them. Hissing when she didn't move forward as expected, the woman began lurching forward furiously. Her sleeve strained and tore, but she could not quite get free. Tino clenched his eyes shut, afraid that she would turn and spot them in their meager hiding spot.

Her screams grew angrier by the moment, her arm tugging and struggling against the branches keeping her from the rest of the group already marching forward through the snow.

Tino felt himself shuddering as a crack filled the air. With a cry that almost sounded triumphant the creature staggered forward, her arm hanging at an angle that left Tino holding bile down his throat. Stumbling in the deep snow the woman continued to move forward down the road her now injured appendage dangling at her side torn to shreds by the branches of the bush.

They watched the infected move away in a petrified silence, Antonio holding both Tino and Arthur to his side desperately. Tino squeezed his shoulder, taking care not to make a sound in case there were stragglers from the group up the road.

Waiting for the sounds to disappear, they shivered in the snow: freezing and terrified. It was Tino who made the first move, digging himself out of the snow and out from under the branch signaling for Antonio to stay put.

Holding a hunting knife he had scavenged from a corpse during their trip, he shakily emerged from the foliage like a hunted deer. Ignoring the blood dripping from the mutilated bush, he studied the area around them and dubbed it safe to continue.

Waving for Antonio to move out from under the cover, he began pulling his bags from the undergrowth as Antonio heaved Arthur onto his shoulder and rushed to Tino's side. Signaling for them to move on, Tino began slogging through the snow at a new frantic pace. He had a new sense of urgency about reaching the safety of Ivan's farm, and that was enough to force his aching legs up the menacingly steep hill.

After a solid hour of marching, Tino knew he was over exerting himself by attempting to scale up the massive hill with the excess weight on his back. His back screamed, his ears burned, and his fingers cramped, but they had made it. Shooting a look across at Antonio he winced, he looked as though he might keel over from exhaustion. His eyes were blood shot, his mouth ringed with white, and his breathing escaped from his lips in ragged gasps.

"A…Antonio stop." Tino rasped, dropping his belongings onto the snow. Antonio obeyed with a grateful gasp, lowering Arthur into the snow with a thud and slumping down beside him with a wheezing gasp. "Here." Antonio accepted the offered water bottle greedily, popping open the cap and draining it with several gulps.

"This…this is harder than it looks." Antonio rasped his throat raw from the icy wind. Tino simply nodded in agreement. Shooting a look at Arthur, who had remained blessedly unconscious for the entire trip, he pulled a blanket from his pack and draped it over the boy. He could wake up at any time, the usual time period for the dosage he had given him having worn off a while ago. "Are you going to try and wake him?" Antonio demanded, hopeful that he would no longer have to drag the Englishman up the hill, especially with at least a mile ahead of them to go.

"I'm not sure I want to see his reaction when he does wake up…he's going to be a mess you know." Tino snapped, taking a sip of water while scanning the boy for signs he might be coming to. He spotted one quickly, noting that Arthur's eyes were moving in a fashion that hinted he might be trying to rouse himself. "He probably won't be completely…right…when he wakes up." Tino continued. "I only used a small dosage to keep him under, but he might be nauseous, disorientated…I'm not sure if I have the energy to fight him if he freaks." Antonio nodded numbly, stuffing his hands further into his jacket with a mutter.

"My nose…_hurts_." Antonio's whine sent Tino's eyes flickering to the boy. He was shuddering violently, his teeth chattering behind bleeding lips. Tino hadn't even thought about the possibility of frostbite, he was always prepared to go out in the snow, his face was covered and his gloves were water proof. He had insured that Arthur was well wrapped, bundled in heavy coats and winter wear, but he never even thought to think about Antonio.

"You're starting to get frostbite on your nose." Tino growled in realization almost too low for Antonio to hear. Pulling his face mask off, he immediately pulled the object over Antonio's head despite the squeak of protest from the Spaniard. "Give me your hands…right now." He ordered, taking off his gloves and snatching the man's hands. Pulling the gloves from his hands he examined the enflamed irritated skin and began to rub the skin furiously. "I should have thought of this.

"Your winter gear isn't as good as mine and you're injured. You were fine last night because you were dry, but running around outside…Damn it I should have known better." He growled, "I gave all my extras to Arthur since he was unconscious so I want you to wear these." Tino ordered, pulling his own gloves over Antonio's hands. "I'll wear yours for now." Pulling of his jacket, he reached out for Antonio's torn one, which Antonio relinquished slowly, his fingers fumbling with the zipper.

Once he was properly dressed, Antonio muttered his thanks from behind the mask, his eyes grateful and full of pain.

Satisfied with his work, Tino extended his hands for Antonio to grab. Accepting it groggily, Antonio staggered to his feet and hefted Arthur onto his shoulders once more.

"We only have a mile left, can you make it?" Antonio nodded dumbly at the question, turning and continuing to stagger up the hill.

They continued for nearly half an hour more, until suddenly a noise caught Tino's attention. Distantly, he could hear the rumble of what sounded like thunder. He glared, staring up at the dim blue sky in confusion.

_What in the world? _He demanded silently, scanning around as the thunder drew closer from up the road. _Hold on…That's not thunder._ He gasped; stopping as a wall of snow being shoved to the side by some unknown force came rolling towards them, startling Antonio who had not stopped when Tino had.

"That's Ivan's truck!" He cheered, spotting the diesel truck as it came around the corner, followed closely by four other vehicles all loaded with supplies that seemed to vast to be a scavenger party.

"Where are they going?" Antonio demanded, wincing as he staggered to Tino's side, his feet screaming with pain he had never endured before.

"Who fucking cares?" Tino cheered, waving down Ivan with a cheer. "Ivan! Ivan look over here, you wonderful, beautiful man!" He was nearly sobbing with joy when the Russian spotted them, his truck coming to stop with a screech of tires. Ivan leapt out of the car with a wave, lumbering towards them in the snow followed closely by Yao and his sisters.

"We don't have to walk the rest of the way still do we?" Antonio grumbled groggily, swaying slightly next to Tino as Yao took Arthur from his shoulders. Ivan laughed, jogging forward excitedly as he answered.

"Nyet, my friend! We will get you back to your friends in no time!" Ivan explained clapping Tino on the back in greeting. Antonio grinned with relief, his eyes half lidded as he stumbled a bit.

"That's nice…if it's alright with you guys I'm going to take a siesta now." Antonio muttered, slumping forward towards the ground. Ivan lashed out in surprise, catching the man and heaving him upwards before he could strike the ground.

Noting the man was already unconscious, Ivan grimaced with concern. Heaving the boy onto his shoulders similarly to how Antonio had been carrying Arthur only a few moments before, he turned towards the exhausted Tino with eyes that demanded to know what had happened in the two days they had been missing. His eyes were full of questions: Why had they attempted such a climb? Why hadn't they called? Where were the others?

When Tino averted his gaze in grief, Ivan began to scan over the snow behind them, obviously in search of the remaining supplies and members of their group. Tino didn't have to say anything as the Russian met his devastated stare a second time, the Russian already knew.

"They're dead…aren't they?"

~X~

** Tino and his companions are finally safe! After that monster of a hike I'm sure they'll need a bit more than a siesta. Where is Ivan going? How is Arthur going to react after he wakes up from his gun/medicine induced coma? How is the rest of the group going to take Francis' betrayal and the loss of their dear Alfred? These questions and more will be answered in the next installment!**

** I missed you guys! I was so busy during the week of the 4th that I didn't have time to stop and write at all! I hope you enjoy this monster of a chapter I managed to crank out to beg for your forgiveness after my extended absence. **

** Oh and remember that I'm taking requests for back stories now! The list is a short one and I'd love to extend it :D **


	22. Just Let Me Go

**Warning: Angst ahead.**

A soft breeze dusted across his skin, the sun warmed his cheeks. Situated in the soft grasses of a wild flower adorned meadow, Arthur stared at the white cloud filled sky. Birds chirped as they flew overhead, flitting from the low hanging branches of an apple tree.

Still, despite the calm scenery, his heart ached. Why? He couldn't understand why. Clenching his eyes closed he attempted to clear his mind and remember what could have caused such grief.

Next to him, a shape shifted in the grasses and released a familiar sigh that sent new pangs of grief through his core.

"Alfred?" He whispered frantically, his eyes still clenched shut for fear that if he opened his eyes the man would disappear.

"I'm here Arthur." Arthur heard a figure swing from the branches above and land next to him with a grunt. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder gently; reaching up Arthur grasped it with shuddering hands. On the palms could feel the same callouses he had grown accustomed too, worn into Alfred's palms from years of playing sports.

Desperate for a reason unknown to him, he forced open his eyes and looked up into the deep blue pools that were smiling down at him.

"You okay, Arthur?" Alfred asked, tilting his glasses up and flashing him a world famous smile.

"Are _YOU _okay?" Arthur asked, anxiously.

"Of course I am." Alfred grinned, grabbing Arthur's chin and examining him carefully. "What's wrong dude? You gotta shape up. I don't want anyone being pissy on my birthday." He explained ruffling Arthur's hair with a smirk.

"Your 21st birthday…is that today?" Arthur whispered, feeling cold despite the bright spring sun blazing above them. Confused he turned to look up at Alfred, "Yes of course…why don't we celebrate with a pint?" He smiled, sitting up

"Yeah, why not! Sounds awesome! Know any good bars around here?" Alfred demanded, jumping to his feet. Arthur moved to follow, but felt himself stagger back to the ground. His legs felt as though they were made of lead. Flustered, he attempted to stand once again, but once again his feet failed him.

"Alfred?" He yelped, shooting a look at Alfred as the American paused and looked back at him in confusion.

"What's wrong Iggy? Don't you want to get a drink?" Alfred demanded his hand stuffed into his pockets. Arthur felt a cold burst of air blast against his face just as he went to answer. Shivering violently as he continued to struggle against his own legs, Arthur felt memories creeping up from the depths of his brain. Realization hit Arthur like a brick as the cold gnawed at his hands and face and slowly the grass and the leaves of the trees began dissolving into endless white snow flurried around them from all angles.

"This isn't…Alfred what's going on?" He shouted as Alfred's eyes began to fill with sadness. "We were in Montana! It was winter! Francis…he…he attacked you…" Arthur felt as though his chest would explode as Alfred knelt in the snow next to him and pressed his hand against Arthur's cheek smiling though he said nothing. Tears began streaming across his cheeks as Arthur's hands struggled to reach up and grab ahold of Alfred. "You're not dead are you? It was just a dream right? Alfred…Alfred please say it was a dream!" Arthur begged, straining desperately against the snow slowly burying him.

Alfred simply smiled, stroking his thumb against Arthur's cheek as he mouthed words that Arthur couldn't understand. Sobbing despondently, Arthur leaned into the palm his tears streaming across Alfred's fingers as he begged him to stay.

His struggles only intensified as Alfred stood, slowly moving away from the Englishman. To Arthur's horror, his feet left no tracks in the snow below him.

"Arthur! Arthur!" His eyes flashed open with a crack as a voice penetrated his dreams. Focusing in on the face above him with eyes that swam, he could see Tino staring down at him, holding his thrashing form as he fought desperately to break free from his hold. "Arthur calm down! Arthur you're safe!" Tino was shouting, holding Arthur to him in a vain attempt to secure the Englishman.

"A…Alfred?" Arthur screamed, shoving Tino aside and sitting up despite both Tino and Ivan's panicked protests. "Alfred? Oh God Alfred! What have I done? _Where is he_?" He shrieked slapping aside Antonio's arms as the man attempted to restrain him.

Arthur glanced around the truck frantically, finding the blond haired, blue eyed, spunky New-Yorker absent he let out a scream of anguish and slammed himself against the door of the truck. Scrabbling with the door handle he almost went tumbling from the moving truck only to have Tino pull him backwards with a shout.

"Make him stop this instant!" Ivan roared, pulling into the driveway of the fort with a screech of breaks that sent the occupants shooting forward. Tino swore angrily at the Russian as Arthur flailed and fought against him in the small space that the cab of the truck provided.

"Gad damn it!" Tino yelped as Arthur rammed his head back against his jaw, splitting his already chapped lips. Reaching up to stem the flow without thinking, Tino felt Arthur lurch forward finally managing to squirm free enough to throw the door open and tumble to the snow coated ground beneath them.

"_Where is he_?" Arthur screamed as he turned on the truck with eyes that flashed desperately.

"Arthur you need to calm down!" Tino cried as he leapt from the car after the boy, barely taking notice of the people sprinting from the house towards them with questioning shouts. "I can explain everything if you just…"

"Don't you _dare _tell me to calm down!" Arthur's shout blasted through the air like a gunshot, his eyes wild with grief and desperation as he fixated his gaze onto Tino's coldly. "Where is Alfred?" He demanded, tears pouring from his furious eyes in torrents. "Tell me!" He shrieked when Tino hesitated.

"Are you guys alright?" Elizabeta and Feliciano demanded in unison as they sprinted up with Ludwig and Gilbert in hot pursuit.

"Tino what the hell is going on?" Gilbert demanded as he approached. Reaching out to grab onto the hysterical Arthur he flinched as Arthur swirled and struck his hands aside with a snarl. "Arthur what's…"

"Don't fucking touch me!" He ordered, swirling so that he could focus on Tino once again. "Where?" He bellowed his fists clenched into fists.

"Arthur…don't you remember?" Antonio whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. Arthur shot him a confused and desperate look, his eyes bloodshot and disorientated. "Arthur…amigo…Alfred is…Alfred is dead." A stunned silence filled the air, ringing out through the trees.

"No…no he can't be…" Arthur stammered, clutching at his chest as if his heart had failed him. "He was just hurt…he was only injured…" He croaked, holding his head in his hands as he attempted to understand what was happening.

"Alfred's…dead?" Gilbert choked, his eyes filling with grief as Elizabeta collapsed into the snow beside him with a wail. "How? Did an infected…?" Tino shook his head numbly. "Then…then how?"

"Francis." Tino whispered, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "Francis killed him when we had our backs turned…" Gilbert's face contorted into a mask of stunned realization as Antonio began to sob violently behind them. Staggering, he slumped against Ludwig's shoulder as he felt remorse and guilt for not listening flowing from his chest.

"I tried to stop him…" Antonio sobbed, rubbing his eyes frantically. "I tried so hard to stop him! I just…I just looked away for a minute! I am sorry. I am so sorry."

Arthur couldn't hear the cries; his vision was blurred with tears, his body numb. He could only see his own gloved hands, stained with Alfred's blood and shuddering as he fought to understand why this could be happening.

The hopelessness of the situation was enough to blur out the world around him. He was falling, and he had nothing to hold onto. Closing his eyes, Arthur could feel warm tears as they caressed down his face.

_It's over...Alfred I'm sorry… I can't do this anymore. _

He didn't even feel himself move, but before he could think about what was happening, he was snatching a pistol from the holster on Ivan's leg planning on ending before the others could react. His finger slid onto the trigger in what felt like slow motion. It would just take a single tug to end it all, a gentle squeeze on the steel trigger. He just had to…

"No!" A body slammed into him with an animalistic roar, sending him flying backwards into the snow. He felt the gun slipping from his hand in surprise and grunted as a body much heavier than him struck him up against the ground, winding him.

Struggling against the form he fought to find the gun once again, shouting in pain as a fist rammed with his chin sending stars streaking across his already distorted vision. Head spinning, he slumped as arms snaked around his form, forcing him to remain motionless.

"Don't ye dare! Don't ye fucking dare reach for that gun!" A familiar voice screamed into his ear, slapping him across the face and pulling him upwards into an iron grip.

"Let go! Let go of me!" He wailed, struggling violently against the hold as the figure held him still despite his cries. "I'm done! I can't do this anymore!" He choked, feeling the form behind him shift to snatch something from the ground. "Please! Just let me end it!" He pleaded, clawing at his captor's arm leaving long white scratches across his exposed wrist.

"You want to kill yourself?" The voice growled right next to his ear, forcing Arthur to look at him with a powerful hand. Arthur felt his eyes widened as the face appeared in his line of vision for the first time. The same emerald eyes he thought he would never see open again. "Fine." Iain snarled, holding up the gun and wrapping Arthur's hand around the handle. "But if ye want to blow your head off…ye have to kill me first." Arthur felt his stomach drop in horror as Iain held the barrel to his own forehead, holding Arthur's hands there despite his struggles.

"W…what? Iain no….Iain don't do this. Iain please don't!" Arthur begged, straining to pull the gun away.

"Ah thought ye wanted to kill yerself! Ye want to kill yourself don't ya? Well if ye want to die so bad, then ye don't have any problem with killing me as well do ye?" Iain laughed, his eyes locking onto Arthur's determinedly reflecting no emotion for the boy to read off. "Do it!" He roared, holding the gun square to his forehead.

"No! Iain you don't understand!" Arthur sobbed, his fingers popping under the force Iain's hand was placing on them. "I can't…I can't go on anymore, but I don't want you to die too!"

"Ye don't give a damn about me!" Iain screamed, his fingers clenching painfully around Arthur's causing him to cry out in pain. "Ye don't give a damn about Alfred, Irene, William, or Mum! Ye don't give a damn if they died to keep you alive!" He bellowed, his voice cracking in his rage. "Arthur Kirkland, If you give up on me now you are just proving that you are too damn selfish to care about what happens to anyone else, you self-centered brat!" He spat, his eyes narrowing on his brother's dismayed eyes furiously. "Pull the trigger." He hissed, low enough so that only Arthur could hear him. "Because if you don't, you are promising me to keep going until the day God is ready to come collect you himself. No matter what hell you have to cross to get there." Arthur sobbed violently; his hands limp around the gun so that it was only Iain's hand truly holding it up.

"I don't want to lose anyone else…I can't stand it." Arthur whispered, no longer fighting Iain's hold. Iain sighed, lowering the gun and sitting back on his heels.

"Well at least that's something we have in common little brother." He whispered whipping the perspiration forming on his brow despite the frigid air blasting around him. The two sat, staring at each other with eyes that communicated what each had no words to say. Arthur felt the tears coming before he could stop them, shuddering he allowed the sobs break free from his lips.

As if a trance had been broken, Iain slapped the gun onto the ground and pulled Arthur forward. "Now, none of that!" Iain snapped bringing Arthur hesitantly to his chest. Awkwardly, he began to pet his hair as Arthur wept into his shoulder. "Come on now…don't…don't do that." He ordered nervously, unsure of how to react. Sighing when Arthur's weeping refused to stop; he hauled Arthur to his feet. Leaning in he muttered, "Come on lad, let's get yah inside." Arthur nodded dumbly, allowing his brother to drag him away from the group.

Brushing past Gilbert, Iain felt the albino grab his elbow forcing him to a stop. Scowling he turned so he could glower at the man preventing him from leaving.

"Do you want someone to come with you?" Gilbert offered, his eyes flickering to the distraught Arthur for a moment. Iain felt rage boil up in his chest as he pushed past the man.

"Ah can take care of my own." He barked, adjusting Arthur's arm so that he supporting him more comfortably. Gilbert sighed, lifting his hand off the man and stepping back to allow Iain to continue marching towards the house.

The group watched them go in shock, each feeling their own kind of grief, and showing it in their various degrees.

All attention reverted to Antonio when unexpectedly the boy slumped against the snow with a shaky sob. Curling in on himself he began to wipe at his eyes in an attempt to stem the tears.

This was all his fault and he knew it. It was his fault that Arthur was like this. It was his fault that Alfred was dead. It was his fault that Francis killed Alfred.

Dipping his head into his knees he felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up despondently, he caught Tino's gaze.

"Listen, Antonio, it's not your fault." Tino crouched next to him, extending a hand for Antonio to help him stand up, "Hey, why don't we go inside and warm up alright? You need some rest." Antonio accepted the hand with some hesitation, his eyes still brimming with tears.

"Hey, why don't I set you guys up with a bath, okay?" Antonio felt another arm wrap around his shoulders. Looking to his other side he found Elizabeta battling back tears of her own and clinging to his arm. "I need something to keep my mind busy." Tino nodded thankfully and patted Elizabeta's hand,

"Thank you." Antonio whispered as Elizabeta and Tino began to lead him towards the house.

"Elizabeta, are you alright?" Tino whispered from Antonio's opposite side. She turned to look at him through a few strands of hair that fell from her pony-tail.

"Yeah, but I should be the one asking you." She grinned at him, but as soon as her lips lifted, they fell once again, "Are you alright. I mean…what happened?" Her voice shook as she opened the front door and made her way towards the bathroom, dragging Antonio along with her.

Tino shook his head.

"I'll tell you once we get Antonio settled…we'll make sure that Gilbert and the others are there too because I'm only telling you once." Tino explained, averting his gaze when he caught the agony her eyes. "He died quick Eliza…he wasn't in any pain." Elizabeta nodded grimly, her eyes brimming with tears.

~X~

"My head is killing me…" Arthur moaned as Iain settled him onto one of the many beds in the large farm house. Iain raised an eyebrow; sitting down next to his brother he snatched the hat from his head with a flick of the wrist. "OW! Iain that _hurt_!" Arthur winced while his brother began examining his skull.

"How did this happen?" Iain demanded, gently prodding a nasty knott sitting on the crown of Arthur's head. Arthur shook his head, he had no idea. Frowning, Iain removed his hand and instead focused on removing his brother's shoes.

"Oi! I can do that myself!" Arthur barked. Iain chuckled at this and sat back gesturing for Arthur to try. Arthur scowled, leaning forward he scrambled to grab ahold of the elusive shoelaces. No matter how hard he tried, the strands managed to evade him, duplicate images filled his mind as he struggled to snatch onto them.

"Ah…I get it now…" Iain muttered pulling off the shoe without effort and tossing it to the side. Smirking at the boy's questioning glance, he shrugged. "They drugged ya." He explained, reaching towards his pocket to grab a cigarette only to hesitate. "Damn it…" He growled when he realized he was out.

"They drugged me?" Arthur gaped, his jaw clenching with rage. "They thought that was ok?" He spat. Iain shrugged, patting Arthur on the knee and shaking his head.

"When ye woke up, ye threatened to kill yerself lad. If ah was Tino, ah would have knocked ye senseless too." Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but Iain shot him a look that convinced him to be quiet. Sitting for a moment in silence, the two scrambled to find something to say.

Arthur thought perhaps his brother might simply leave, as he normally would, but the man remained seated, his hands shaking in his lap ever so slightly. It was hardly noticeable, but after years of experience living with Iain, Arthur had learned to detect when Iain hadn't had a cigarette in a long while. Sighing, Arthur reached into his pockets.

"You know…I left so that I could get you medicine, which you still need no matter how well you're moving now, but I also got you these." Tossing the package into the air, he smiled slightly when Iain's hand snaked into the air out of habit to snatch the package from the air.

"Well shit…what do you know?" Iain chuckled, examining the package. "Thanks." He grunted, ripping open the package and tossing the plastic onto the ground beside him. Selecting one of the cancer sticks from the package he placed it between his teeth. Arthur nodded glumly, slumping back onto the sheets and watching exhaustedly as the smoke began to rise from the white tube. "What were ye thinking Iggy?" Iain's question cracked open the silence with a snap, surprising Arthur out of his daze.

"What do you…"Arthur jumped to answer, but Iain held his hand up to stop him.

"No…I don't want an answer now never mind." He ordered, taking another puff from his cigarette in irritation. "I just don't understand why?" Iain muttered.

"Why?" Arthur demanded. "Why did I go with them?" He suggested. Iain nodded gruffly, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning on his palms. "Because I thought you were dying…Fel…I mean the others thought you were dying." Iain's eyes flashed angrily.

"They told you that ah was _dying?_" His words came out in a growl, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Anyone else in that condition probably would have been dead already!" Arthur insisted, angry that his brother was upset with him for leaving. "Is it my fault that I was worried about you? Is it wrong that I wanted to take care of you when you were sick?" Iain glowered, sitting up again, and starting to pace around the room.

"Ah don't need yer help, Iggy!" He barked, his eyes flashing.

"Why won't you let someone take care of you for once?" Arthur choked, his temper flaring and his tears returning in angry streams.

"Because ah'm the one that is supposed to be protecting you!" Iain roared, whirling on his brother. Arthur blinked in surprise. He had been expecting an outburst from his brother, but that had not been it. Iain seemed to realize what he had said as well, and instantly turned away from his brother muttering angrily to himself. Arthur felt the corners of his lips twitch ever so slightly at his brother's confession, but out of experience he knew better than to point out what his brother had said.

"I think I might get some sleep..." He mumbled, noticing the instant relaxation in his brother's shoulders.

"Yeah, ah suppose ye might want to sleep off that concussion." Iain relented, blowing a puff of cigarette smoke into the air. "But don't think ah'll be leaving ye alone. Ah'm going to get some of those antibiotics ye were talking about and then ah'll be right back here to keep an eye on ya." Arthur nodded, following his brother with calm eyes as he stalked from the room.

He waited for him to close the door before he allowed himself to smile ever so slightly.

His brother did care, no matter how rough and tumble he made himself out to be.


	23. Confusion

**Warnings: Dramatic stuff, and references to religion. **

It was nearly a week after the group had returned, that some sort of normality had returned to the remaining survivors. Regardless of the seemingly endless depression running rampant through the survivors the snow continued to fall, time trudged forward, and the ever present infected remained pressed against the fences holding up around the camp. They had no choice: life had to move on.

Elizabeta realized this slowly as she began to prepare dinner the seventh night after Tino and the others return. Staring at the water as it boiled merrily away on Ivan's stove she broke up the pasta and tossed it into the pot as she shot a look at Feliciano, who was helping her prepare dinner.

Feliciano was stirring the sauce next to her, straining to be a cheerful despite the grim situation.

Noticing her gaze was on him, he flashed her a slim smile.

"We're going to be okay." He finally said, as if reading her mind. "Everyone we lost, do you know where they are now?" Elizabeta shook her head. "Heaven." He responded, "They're all in Heaven, looking down on us! Alfred will protect us and be our guardian angel. So will Matthew, even Francis. Kiku, Felix, and Toris, too. Hey, maybe even my big brother is up there." Elizabeta smiled, stirring the pasta slowly.

"Yeah…" She whispered.

"They're going to help us Miss Elizabeta, up there in Heaven." Elizabeta attempted to smile, but a frown touched her lips, holding them frozen.

"How do you know?" She questioned, watching him add a few seasonings to the canned sauce.

"I pray." He explained as he put down the spoon and drew a cross from his pocket, and held it before her proudly. She frowned as she examined the object, small and plain she could barely make out a small brown tinge of dried blood on the lighter wood. "My brother gave me this when he got bit, he told me to keep praying and that God wouldn't give up on me." Elizabeta touched the cross with the tip of her fingers, "You can hold it if you want." He grinned and extended the wooden object towards her. Nodding eagerly, she accepted the object graciously and held it up for examination. She hadn't seen a cross in a long time; it brought a touch of a smile to her lips.

"Feli, do you think God is going to help us live through this?" She asked, handing him back his crucifix.

"I don't know, but He always has a plan Miss Elizabeta; He'll help us onto the best path in the end." Feliciano seemed honestly happy for the first time in a long time, his smile brought tear to her eye. Chuckling, Elizabeta reached out and placed arm around his shoulder, hugging him gently.

"Do you want me to pray with you Miss Elizabeta?" He asked quietly. Elizabeta nodded, allowing the boy to speak as she clutched him to her and let the tears she had been holding back spill out.

~X~

Forks clinked against plates and glasses clunked against the table as the meal continued on. No one seemed to be in a mood for much conversation, instead the silence dragged on creating a black cloud of tension above the survivors.

Elizabeta felt her eyes trailing along the row of people sitting at the large dining table in front of her. Her gaze rested upon each face in turn, the only one missing Antonio who had chosen to nap instead of eat, and attempted to find someone who would make eye contact with her.

Making her way along the line, she could see the fatigue, agony, and despair stamped clearly on their features. Even the always bubbly Feliciano was sporting a frown once again as he shot nervous glances at the stoic Ludwig, hoping for an encouraging word or smile.

Elizabeta sighed and tore her gaze away, finding herself looking at Gilbert sitting at the head of the table instead. His crimson eyes connected with her forest green eyes and caught. Noticing her staring, he flashed her a tired smile and winked before he continued to pick at his meal. She smiled back at him as best as she could, and received an even broader grin in response.

The screech of wood sliding across wood sent her attention away from Gilbert.

With a sudden huff of exhaustion Arthur had stood plate in hand. The plate was shaking in his palms, and the food resting on the white surface had hardly been touched. Elizabeta spotted the tears rolling down his face and turned her gaze away.

"I'm tired." He whispered in one quick wavering breath, "Please, excuse me." He didn't wait for a response when with a quick turn he walked over to the counter, placed his plate on the granite, and departed. The group flinched as the front door slammed, and Arthur's shape disappeared in the snow headed towards the barn.

The group watched him go in surprise, not sure how to react or what to say. Elizabeta shot a look at Tino, silently questioning if someone should follow, but before he could respond Iain snorted and stood, his emerald eyes trailing after Arthur. Hesitantly he turned back to his meal, and groaned.

"God damn it… I wasn't done eatin'." Grumbling he shoved what was left of the bread Feliciano had managed to create into his mouth washed it down with a chug of beer. Turning with mug of beer in hand he casually began to trail after his brother.

"If I go in there are you having another pity party I swear to God I'll beat your skinny white ass!" Iain called after his brother as he sauntered out of the house.

From the couch, Antonio looked up dazedly from the spot where he had fallen asleep on the couch to see what the commotion was, and noticing the lack of panic plopped back down with a groan.

"Ai Dios Mio." He sighed rolling back over on the floral print of the couch so that his face was hidden in the cushions of the couch.

"So…" Tino began, his eyes flicking to the door "Thank you for dinner Elizabeta and Feliciano." He smiled over at the two with a quick flash of his teeth. A dull round of thank you traveled after his comment,

"Yeah, you're welcome." Elizabeta and Feliciano chorused. Once again a silence began to fill the air, but instead Gilbert cleared his throat.

"Well, I was hoping Iain would stay a bit longer…but since he's off with his brother I do have a quick question before you all scatter around the property in search of something to do. What in Gott's name are we going to do next?" He asked his eyes flickering to Tino who had taken on a tentative leadership role since the scavenging party's return. "I mean, we could wait for more people or head out, but we have to do something." Tino looked up at him through his pale bangs, considering his proposition "Hell, we could even head where Ivan and his posse are going! From what he said, it sounded safe."

"Gilbert, do you really think we should leave? We just gained a relatively fragile sense of security; despite our losses on the scavenging mission, it feels normal here. Why should we leave?" Tino asked his deep purple eyes filled with curiosity,

"I like it here!" Feliciano chimed in purposefully, "If we secure the fences so the infected can't get in and we'll be fine!" Feliciano beamed as he broke apart the last of his bread and soaked up the remainder of his sauce before popping it into his mouth.

"How secure do you figure those walls would have to be? You saw what happened at the base, chain link and razor wire wasn't even enough to stop them for long." Gilbert's point was enough to hit home, nervously they felt their eyes drift towards the blustering snow filled air outside and thought of the barbed wire fence that was their only line of defense against the infected.

"We could always fortify." Ludwig put in pointedly, leaning back in his chair.

"But how long could we stay here honestly? The nearest food is a good distance away and even that wouldn't last long not to mention how dangerous it is to reach it." Gilbert snapped, glaring at his brother.

"Do you really think we should be discussing this without Iain and Arthur?" Tino demanded crossly, rotating a knife between his fingertips to keep himself calm. "They're an important part of this group as well, and I don't feel right making any sort of decision while they aren't here to put in an opinion."

"Gilbert maybe, but I don't think Arthur needs to be involved right now. Did you see how he reacted after Alfred's death? He's not reasoning right now, he's unstable." Tino glared fiercely as Ludwig spoke, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"He's grieving. Let his brother calm him down a bit and he'll be fine." Elizabeta said, stepping in before Tino could speak. Ludwig snorted at the idea, shaking his head angrily.

"He's had a week; we don't have time to grieve so openly anymore. Not with the world how it is." Ludwig argued, ignoring Feliciano's pleading eyes.

"Drop it while you're ahead Ludwig." Gilbert barked, clamping his hand onto Ludwig's arm a firmly enough to make the blonde twitch in pain. "Alright here's what we're going to do...Give me a second to speak here Tino" Gilbert ordered, lifting up a finger to silence the livid Finn. "First, tomorrow we start working on a way to get the fences more secure just in case we do decide to stay here." The group mumbled out a low agreement. "Second, we get everyone together for an actual conversation where no one is left out." Nodding to Tino to signal he was done, Gilbert gradually relaxed into his chair.

"We should break up patrols around the fence line." Tino suggested, catching everyone's gaze in turn. "Someone could make a schedule that would have someone walking around the fence lines at all times to make sure there aren't any infected getting in?" Ludwig nodded in cautious agreement,

"It should be at least two people at a time, moving in two hour shifts. We'll go in rotations just like anyone on a security detail would." Ludwig rationed shrugging off his brother's hold. Tino thought a moment, but agreed.

"Ludwig and Feliciano, you two can cover one shift, Iain and Arthur can cover another once Arthur's a bit more…stable… for now I guess Iain can group up with a pair. Then me and Antonio, Elizabeta and Gilbert." Everyone nodded and Antonio flashed a thumbs up to show he had heard the plan before allowing his arm to slump lifelessly back to his side. "Ok now that that's settled, I think everyone should head off to bed. Feli, Ludwig, you don't mind taking first watch do you?"

"But it's dark…" Feliciano whined, shooting a look outside nervously.

"I'm fine with it, come on Feli or I'll make you walk alone." Ludwig commanded glancing at his watch. "We'll come get you and Antonio at midnight." He reasoned, snagging Feliciano's arm and towing him towards the door.

Once the door sealed behind them, the group slowly began to trickle out of the room one by one, leaving Elizabeta and Tino sitting alone in the empty dining room.

"Hey kiddo, why don't you help me clean up? I'll do the dishes, you do the counters, kay?" Tino piped up when Elizabeta began to stand.

"Alright." She nodded, setting to work clearing the table as Tino walked over to the sink and began running water over the plates already inside of the tub. The worked in silence awhile, only the sound of Antonio's quiet snoring and the clinking of dishes to break the silence.

"What's on your mind? I can tell that you're thinking about something." Tino sighed, not looking over his shoulder as Elizabeta brushed her bangs back and redid her ponytail.

"Oh, just…no it's nothing … nothing to be worried about right now." She insisted fidgeting with the rag she had been using to clean the counters.

"No, go ahead and let it out." Tino looked glimpsed at her with raised eyebrows, "I want something to talk about other than zombies and death." Elizabeta smiled and placed a few more dishes in the sink. Taking a moment to think, she attempted to gather her thoughts.

"It's just… well…" Her mind searched for a good place to start. Tino said nothing, instead he waited silently for her to speak. "Me and Gilbert are kind of together, right?" Tino nodded, running water through a colander patiently.

"That much is obvious."

"Well…I mean…me and Iain kind of…" She paused and fingered her lips, she could feel the tingle she had felt before dance across her them.

"You kissed." Tino prodded, Elizabeta huffed but nodded,

"Yeah, we kissed. It's just…wait how did you guess?" She demanded.

"I'm not that old yet honey, I saw how he looked at you I figured he would make a move at some time…anyway go ahead and tell me why getting a kiss is such a bad thing." Blushing, Elizabeta continued scrubbing at the counters fiercely.

"It's just…I'm confused." She pointed out as Tino chuckled.

"Listen Eliza, it was never really hard for me in that sense. I mean really it was pretty much always me and my husband. I've never really a second man that I could think of as a lover or anything. Honestly there wasn't much of a choice really: there was me and there was Berdwald, no one else in that town was really…" Tino broke off and laughed, "You know what I mean. But, I can tell you, that there will be that one clicking moment, eventually." Elizabeta sighed, rubbing her forehead angrily.

"The question is how long with 'eventually' take to frickin get here?" Tino shrugged, drying off a plate and placing it back in the cabinets.

"I think you should talk to them about it. You don't really have to pull them together in a room and tell them you like both of them, but you know, spend some time with each of them and I'm sure you'll like one of their personalities better, heaven knows who I'd choose." He smirked and went back to the dishes, "But I'm not telling you that, so it's up to you to figure it out on your own." He grinned accepting a pan from her. "Do you like your men hot or spicy?" Flushing she smacked his arm and giggled.

"Your terrible." She snickered, "But, thank you Tino." Elizabeta smiled, wrapping Tino in a quick one-armed hug. Tino patted her arm with a wet, sudsy hand and continued on with his task.

"Go on, I'll finish up here." Elizabeta nodded and turned to leave.

Throwing open the door, she rammed directly into someone as they attempted to move into the house. Staggering, she felt strong hands pull her back upwards and looked up in surprise to see Gilbert, grinning down at her with twinkling eyes.

"Woah there speedy, what's your hurry?" He smiled wrapping her in a bear hug that nearly knocked the wind from her lungs. "Hey listen, I got to go talk to Tino is he in there?" Elizabeta nodded dumbly and stared blankly up at him, "Thanks." Elizabeta turned to leave, but Gilbert caught her arm, "Are you okay?" He asked. Startled, she nodded again.

"Just a bit cold." Elizabeta said rubbing her arms dramatically. Gilbert smiled and brushed a lock of her hair away from her face,

"Go get somewhere warm then." He instructed and kissing her on the forehead before going inside the kitchen. Elizabeta starred after him with a dumbstruck look. She almost was tempted to listen into the conversation, but seeing as it was bellow freezing outside, she decided against it and went to find Iain.

~X~

She found the Scotsman sitting outside of the barn taking a puff of a cigarette with his arm draped over Arthur's shoulders. He was talking to him quietly, chuckling as he told some story or another. Elizabeta bit her lip and slumped to the ground behind the side of the barn to shield herself from Iain's line of sight.

"Do you remember when William would come over drunk off his rocker?" Iain asked his brother his voice reminiscent.

"That was you." Arthur sniffled, but he didn't sound as sad as Elizabeta expected.

"Really? Nah, he probably did it at least once…" There was no response from the Englishman so he continued, "Well remember when he'd come over and he'd always tell us about how he met some or another farmer willing to give him a sheep for a good price or how he was planning on extending his farm? Man, that boy loved his sheep." Iain laughed, pausing to take a draft from his drink.

"You know what I remember?" He questioned, "I remember when Alfred would invite us to his baseball games, and we didn't have a bloody clue about what was going on during the game, but you _still_ managed to lose your voice yelling at the team goin' against 'im. Or what about the time he took us the burger joint that we never even knew existed and Irene got food poisoning? Aye…see you remember!" Arthur mumbled something, and Elizabeta heard Iain sigh. After a moment, she heard Iain suck in a deep breath.

"Ah remember when ye were a wee lil' guy…" Iain chuckled dryly taking a breath from his cigarette. "…and ye used to climb right into my bed when ye thought I was asleep and how I always-"

"You always pushed me out the bed and called me a 'little shit'." Iain laughed as Arthur filled in the memory.

"Aye, you know what you're being right now?" Arthur didn't respond, "A wee little shit!" Arthur tried to laugh but it sounded more like a cough.

Elizabeta winced as Iain exhaled heavily, perhaps now wasn't the best time. She stood to begin to walk away, smiling slightly to herself: Iain _did _have a soft side. She sighed; it was a bit of an uneven soft side, but one regardless.

Straightening up, she found that she was now successfully soaked through her clothes and shivering.

"Now, go to bed." Iain ordered as the two began to stand up. Pausing, she waited for Arthur to say a quick goodnight and disappear to into the barn.

Iain grumbled something as the door shut and rounded the corner too quickly for Elizabeta to react. Squeaking as he stared down at her with a raised eyebrow, she struggled for words to explain herself.

"Hi!" She managed; Iain released a puff of smoke and raised a thick eyebrow questioningly. "I just-I wanted to-hi…" She tried again internally cursing her extreme lack of imagination and words.

"Hi." Iain said back bluntly, sighing he tossed his cigarette butt into the snow and stomped it out with his boot. "Well I suppose you were listenin' in on our little brotherly bondin' session?" Elizabeta shook her head,

"No! No! Well I mean, a little…maybe…yes." She was always a terrible liar. Biting the inside of her cheek she looked up at Iain,

"Now I don't want you to go thinkin' I'm a pussy or something because I console-" He didn't finish but he jabbed a finger in her direction pointedly. Elizabeta put her hands up in defense,

"No! No! I actually needed to talk to you about something!" She confessed and slid back onto the ground. Iain joined her, crouching just next to her his eyes on the sky above them.

"Shoot." He finally said taking a swig of his freezing beer. Elizabeta pondered as to where to start,

"About the other day…" She whispered, Iain glanced over at her through a lock of crimson hair. "I wanted to talk about it if you don't mind."

"What of it?" He asked nonchalantly, his eyes flicking towards the barn to make sure there was no one listening in. Steeling herself, Elizabeta swallowed and attempted to stutter out what she wanted to say.

"I just…I'm just… confused." She admitted, fidgeting with her gloves.

"Because of Gilbert?" Iain demanded, sounding a bit more annoyed at her than she anticipated. Twitching in surprise, Elizabeta nodded and averted her gaze.

"Iain, I'm just…it's not like that…I just want to know why…why you kissed me." Snorting Iain rolled his eyes.

"Why ah kissed ya?" He demanded, looking down at her with eyes she fought to read but held no real emotion. "I think ye know why ah kissed ya Eliza, if ye still haven't figured that one out then maybe yer not quite as smart as ah thought ya were." He pointed out, avoiding her gaze. Elizabeta lowered her gaze, staring at her gloved hands intently as Iain glared out into the forest surrounding them.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" She whispered, her breath puffing out in a cloud in front of her.

"Why? Don't ye think ah tried? If ya haven't noticed, ah'm not the best at explaining myself with words." His tone was gruff, guarded, she found herself struggling to grasp at any hint of emotion on his voice. "Are ye here to tell me that ye broke it off with Gilbert?" He demanded suddenly, startled she struggled to answer.

"N…no! No! Gilbert and I are still…" She spouted before thinking. Snorting, Iain shook his head.

"Then why the hell are ye here?" She could feel the exhaustion in his voice even as he spoke.

"I…I'm…I thought that we should talk." Iain laughed outright at this, glancing at Elizabeta he shook his head.

"Ah understand now…you don't want to know why ah kissed ya. You want to know why you kissed me back." Her eyes widened at the harshness of the statement, staring back at him she noticed just how unreadable his face had become. "Yer a bit confused, and ye were hoping ah'd either throw myself down on the ground begging for ye to pick me, or tell yah ah was drugged and did a terrible thing!" His accusation cut deep, opening a wound she hadn't expected to receive. "Well guess what lass! Ah don't play like that!"

"I wasn't trying to make it sound like that!" She protested, flustered that he would jump to such conclusions. Iain laughed, taking another draft from his drink and leaning up against the barn. "I just wanted to speak with you like adults! I just wanted to figure out what the hell is going on between us." Snorting Iain tossed his bottle aside.

"Listen cupcake, we are in the middle of a fucking apocalypse and all you can think about is your _relationship problems?_" Elizabeta gasped, indignant she opened her mouth to protest, but Iain continued on forcefully. "Maybe you shouldn't be so focused on your next boyfriend and start focusin' on survival!" Elizabeta growled, and attempted to stand up even straighter so she could stare him in the eye.

"How dare you! You're the one who kissed _me, _Iain Kirkland! You're the one who started this!" She spat, standing as he did so she could look him in the eye.

"Ye didn't seem to be fighting back very hard, did yah lassie?" He taunted, keeping his voice low as hers began to rise.

"You're behaving like a beast! I just wanted to talk!" She growled, her fists clenching next to her sides.

"Well maybe ah'm sick of talking!" He snarled, stepping forward dangerously. "Can I ask you something?" Iain suddenly questioned his face only inches away from hers. Elizabeta scowled, but stayed silent. "Are all women this bloody ignorant? Or is that just you?" Elizabeta growled and felt herself fighting the urge to slap him across the face.

"Are all men so pig-headed, selfish, idiotic, stupid, cruel, and…and…RAH!" Stomping her foot, she growled in frustration as she stormed away lifting her middle finger up as a closing argument. Tears streaked across her face, freezing on her cheeks as she attempted to wipe them away with a furious hand to no avail. She didn't turn to look back at Iain as she slammed into the house.

She busted into the house, and rammed promptly into the large chest of Gilbert, He wrapped an arm around her and tilted her face up to see him,

"I want to show you somethi- Elizabeta, what's wrong?"

**Drama bomb! Okay you guys, remember to review, and since I'm going to stop being lazy. Suggest a scene that you want me to draw out and I'll post it on DeviantArt! You can tell me if you want it to be a comic, or just a picture! And remember to review for the back stories!**


	24. Panic

**Warnings: Fluff, blood, gore. I never thought I'd say that in the same sentence.**

Elizabeta bumped into Gilbert's chest as she entered the room. He had come to an unexpected stop, and her mind had been so wrapped up in thoughts she had not had the time to react. He steadied her with a laugh, amused by her inattentiveness. His eyes caught hers though and in an instant his face fell.

Frowning, he lifted Elizabeta's chin and peered into her tear-filled jade eyes inquiringly.

"You okay?" He asked, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. Elizabeta nodded quickly, pulling away and wiping at her eyes.

"I'm fine!" She insisted, attempting to force a smile into gracing her quivering lips. Gilbert seemed relatively unconvinced, but he pushed her no farther, and instead continued to lead her into the house.

"Alright, I wanna show you something!" Gilbert prodded. "But you can't peek." He teased, tweaking her nose and covering her eyes with his hands. Chuckling Elizabeta shook her head as she attempted to peek through his fingers. "No peeking!" He chastised. His hands, much larger and warmer than she remembered them being, sealing the gap that she had been peering through. Chuckling she relented with a sigh and allowed herself to be led.

Stumbling and muttering under her breath, she felt Gilbert's laugh brush against the back of her neck. Slowly he came to a stop, standing silent for a moment she raised an eyebrow when he sighed.

"Ready?" He demanded, the gaps between his fingers opening teasingly enough to let in light but not allowing her to see.

"Gilbert." She grumbled irritably, coaxing a chuckle from Gilbert.

"Ready?" He demanded. She muttered angrily, crossing her arms. "Ok ok sorry." He chortled, moving his hands away from her eyes.

Elizabeta squinted as her eyes adjusted, and slowly she made out the dining room that she had just left. The table had been transformed into something out of a movie. With two chairs, a clean white table cloth, a small set of candles sitting in the middle of the table as well as a bottle of wine and two glasses. Stunned, Elizabeta starred slack jawed at the set up.

"Gilbert…" She mouthed and he smiled grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the table. Pulling out a chair, he sat her down with a cheesy bow.

"I wanted to do something nice." Gilbert explained as he pulled out a chair for himself and sat down across from her. "And I especially wanted to think of something other than killing infected and mourning." Popping open the wine bottle with a grunt, he poured it into her glass with twinkling eyes. "Sorry the wine is pretty shitty, the Russian had no taste in fine wines. I guess it really doesn't matter though. I just thought since we haven't really had anytime you know…alone…Tino actually helped plan this. I was just asking advice and he somehow turned it in to-" Elizabeta stopped him by planting a quick kiss on his lips mid-sentence. Startled he grinned as she pulled back, blushing furiously under his silvery hair.

"I love it." She giggled, the tears still drying on her cheeks. Beaming, Gilbert lifted up his glass with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Shaking her head, Elizabeta gently raised their glasses together. "Cheers."

~X~

Feliciano could honestly say he'd had more fun in a math class than sitting out in negative degree weather watching the never-ending, never changing, always white forest get even whiter. The only benefit, and probably the only reason her hadn't gone running inside and demanded either one: for more blankets, or two: for someone to change shifts with him all together, was Ludwig.

From what Ludwig had told them after they had been woken up from only about four hours of sleep by Tino and Antonio, he had agreed to take a second shift in order to let the others sleep a bit more. So despite his best efforts, Feliciano and Ludwig had staggered back out into the freezing cold after only about four or so hours of sleep.

They had taken refuge in one of the many trees littering the property, hoping that the branches would shield them from the worst of the gusts. With bright curious brown eyes, pleading for something interesting to happen he looked over at Ludwig and moved ever so slightly closer.

Ludwig was stoic, sitting up straight and alert despite his lack of sleep. His eyes constantly scanning over the snowy forest for any sign what so ever of an infected. He looked so serious that Feliciano couldn't help but begin to giggle.

"What?" Ludwig sighed looking at Feliciano through the corner of his eye. "Why are you laughing?" Feliciano found this somehow even more hilarious as he lay back against the trunk of the tree doubled over in a fit of giggles and snorts.

"I-I'm sorry!" Feliciano gasped after a few moments of mirth when Ludwig glared at him, "I just…you just looked so…you looked like a statue…a big muscley German statue!" Feliciano wiped at his eyes and sighed attempting to bring himself upright again.

"Ah…" Ludwig raised an eyebrow, still confused, but apparently believing it best to just play along with the hysteric Italian. "I see…" Feliciano managed to bring himself back together and slumped over bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on top of them.

"Hey Ludwig…" He whispered after all had been quite for nearly five minutes. Ludwig looked over at him,

"Ja?" He asked, cleaning out his nails with his steel pocket knife.

"Have you ever been in love?" Feliciano asked. Ludwig stiffened looking up with a relatively startled expression. Shaking his head he regained his composure and continued cleaning his nails.

"Nein." Feliciano's smiled drooped a bit, "Have you?" Ludwig muttered, not looking up at the boy.

"No… but I've had crushes on people before! Loads of people! I used to flirt with the ladies all the time! It was great!" Feliciano's chipper mood died down once again, "I had a few boyfriends here and few girlfriends there, but never really…clicked." Ludwig nodded, examining his work with a scrutinizing eye before replacing his knife in the holster at his side.

"I wasn't the flirting type." He explained settling his hand down on the branch they were sitting on, leaning against it slowly. "I had a few girlfriends, but it was never anything serious." He shook his head and sighed as he scanned over the ground around them, "There was one girl though, that I almost proposed too her. I was this close. But then…" He broke off his eyes narrowing slightly.

"The infection?" Feliciano asked, feeling a bit downtrodden.

"Nein…she…cheated on me with some _Arschloch_ and ran away with him." Feliciano frowned, relieved but not wanting to say so.

"I'm sorry. Just for the record, I'd never do that to you." He put in eagerly, swaying slightly on the branch. Ludwig smiled and shook his head,

"Danke, but I would certainly hope you don't run away during this…Heaven knows what might happen." Feliciano nodded and placed his hand down on the branch as well. He had a plan and he knew how to execute it just right.

"Ludwig, you don't like anyone now do you?" Feliciano inquired, leaning slightly so he could place his head on Ludwig's shoulder.

"I…I don't know." Ludwig shook his head, "With everything so chaotic and such…I just don't know." Feliciano sighed, and scooted away again. Ludwig was right, everything was too crazy right now. He couldn't be starting any kind of romance or drama within the small group. It would slowly mutilate them from the inside if he did. Besides, he didn't even know if Ludwig was even into…guys.

"Wait…" Ludwig hissed, grabbing his binoculars from around his neck. "Did you see that?" He pointed his finger towards a small gap in the trees where a quick flash of white darted in between them. Feliciano jumped,

"I saw it!" He whispered, nervously groping for the pistol Tino had insisted he carried strapped to his side. The figure was darting towards the tree, stumbling through the snow and snarling. Terrified Feliciano gasped and clung to Ludwig, while the German fumbled for his own weapon.

He could see the thing clearly now. A woman, in a winter jacket that used to be white, now splattered with gore, blood, mud, dirt, and grime until seemed more of a yellow-brown color. She wore ripped black jeans, now more sick brown than black from the trash it had collected. Her feet sported what used to be a pair of tennis shoes, but were now worn to the sole. Tattered red fabric clung around her bloodied and mangled feet. Her toes were all gone leaving nothing but the stubs of her feet bleeding into the pure white snow. Her fingers, now groping at the pair in the branches, were nothing but bone leaving streaks of blood along the bark of tree. Her dead eyes glared up at them wrathfully, her tangled greasy black hair creating an eerie glow on her face.

It was the nose that made Feliciano feel as though he would lose his lunch. Her nose was nothing more than a gory hole in the center of her face so deep he though if he stared long enough he would see straight through her grotesque face.

Her face was the face of death.

Feliciano scrambled back as she began digging the bones of her fingers into the bark of the tree and began climbing it after them. Ludwig swore as he attempted to get his gun or his knife out. He had just unclipped the knife as she reached up and with her horrible nubs and with a screech snatched Feliciano's leg.

Screaming he kicked, teetering off balance as he flailed. Tumbling forward, he spiraled towards the ground as she leapt off of the tree down to meet him. Landing with a thud that knocked the wind from his lungs he gasped and sputtered while Ludwig shouted out in protest. Coughing and wheezing, Feliciano rolled onto his back as the woman lurched towards him, her crooked jaw clicking and clacking as she opened and closed it.

Screaming in defiance as the woman continued to claw her way towards him, her grubby remnants of hands grabbing at his shoes, Feliciano slammed his foot into her skull and scrambled further away. With a roar, Ludwig jumped down from the tree and slammed the infected off of Feliciano who scrambled to his feet frantically.

Angrily, Ludwig grabbed the woman's coat and smashed her hard against a tree along the fence line. She howled in protest, her screams gurgling as Ludwig yanked out his knife from his side and plunged it into her chest sticking her to the tree. Struggling she howled as he punched her in the face crunching through bone and shattering her already deformed skull. Flopping forward uselessly, she seemed to die instantly.

Panting, Ludwig turned to Feliciano and snagged onto his arm. Pulling him towards the direction of the house, Ludwig narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Let's, go get the others. This isn't good…this means there's a gap in the fence and I have no idea where it is." Feliciano nodded and the two began to dash down the path back to the farm house.

The snow, so deep it hugged their thighs, hinder their movements so badly that within a few seconds of their odd shuffle-sprint the two were panting heavily.

They were within about a quarter a mile from the house when they heard a rustle of leaves behind them.

Turning around despite his mind telling him to run faster, Feliciano spotted the white jacketed woman lumbering towards them in the snow. The knife was no longer gouged into her chest but instead had been torn clean through. The nasty hole it left through her chest ran clean through her torso and splattered crimson blood wetly across the ground as she ran.

This time she had friends.

Three infected, each male and standing just as tall as Ludwig stumbled and staggered after their much faster female companion. Feliciano shuddered in terror and felt his body fighting to increase his speed.

Feliciano tugged on Ludwig's arm, frantically as she tore at the snow towards them

"Ludwig, she's back!" He screamed. Ludwig, spotting the infected and swearing, simply increased his speed as he pulled his pistol from his hip.

"Keep up and don't look behind you. We can out run them." He ordered, his eyes focused on to the road in front of them. "Keep calm…don't panic. I'm right here." He hissed when Feliciano began to sob raggedly, desperately clawing his way through snow as slowly the woman gained on them with her horrible dagger sharp teeth gnashing hungrily.

Feliciano stumbled as he attempted to keep up with Ludwig's generally swifter pace. Holding onto Ludwig's sleeve, he felt himself falling behind ever so slightly. Terrified, he scrambled to speed up. His feet struck the icy ground haphazardly.

There was a patch of ice hidden under the fine powder of snow.

Feliciano felt his foot strike a slick section of the ground just beside the edge of a steep ravine dropping into a black abyss below. Ludwig felt him slipping and spun to catch him, his fingers lashing through the air and catching ahold of Feliciano's sleeve.

The fabric of Feliciano's jacket was slick. Ludwig's grip was loose.

Their eyes locked for a moment that lasted a millisecond, and Feliciano caught the first glimpse of actual horror in Ludwig's eyes.

He didn't even scream as he fell…he was too scared.

Ludwig watched him fall, his fingers still extended to catch ahold of the slim fingers tumbling away from him. He didn't see him land, but he heard him hit the ice coated ground below.

He could climb down and rescue him; it wasn't that far of a drop.

There was only one problem: the infected. If he chased after Feliciano and he was hurt than the monsters would kill him before Ludwig could fight them off. He had to lure them away or Feliciano was doomed.

Ludwig spun around as a hiss filled the air. Snarling he pulled his knife from his waist and leveled it at the encroaching monsters.

The woman in the white coat growled as she crawled her way through the snow, and it was obvious that her intent was not to go after the armed German but to follow Feliciano down the slope. Ludwig swore and lashed out at her, missing by inches and instead burying his blade in the arm of one of her companions.

The beast was undeterred by the motion, and lashed out at Ludwig with a massive paw of a hand. He barely managed to leap back in time.

_These verdammt creatures are too big…I need to lure them off and try to out run them. Damn it Feliciano you had better be ok down there! _He thought desperately as he pulled a hatchet from his pocket and embedded it into one of the creature's neck.

"Come get me! Let's go! Come on! This way you _Höllenhunde!" _He screamed as the creature's turned their attention onto him. Moaning, they reached out with hands that groped at the air hungrily.  
>"That's right you <em>Verdammt Dämonen!" <em>Throwing a rock at one of the creatures still aiming for the ledge he leapt out of range of one of the larger creature's hands. "Don't I look tastier? Leave him! He's too skinny! Come on _Schweine_! Come this way! Come get me, I'm right here!" He bellowed, chucking pinecones and stones as he trotted backwards, his eyes flicking to the ledge frantically.

_Come on Feliciano…get up…get out of here. That's an order. You had better be ok. _He didn't take time to see if Feliciano followed his orders, the infected were moving towards him quickly, so with a final growl he turned and sprinted into the woods his pursuers close at hand.

Behind him, the woman in white tumbled down the ledge.

_~X~_

Feliciano felt his head ram into the ice covered pond at the bottom of the ravine with an explosion of pain in the back of his head. His world faded to black in a matter of seconds. The blackness was so peaceful, so wonderful; it enveloped him in a warm hug like a blanket swaddling an infant. For a moment, there was no pain, no fear, just bliss.

He was _safe_. He was finally safe from fear and safe from the creatures plaguing the world around him.

_Che cosa…what do you think you're doing? Stop lying around you lazy bastard._ Feliciano groaned as his brother's voice burst to life in his mind.

"Five more minutes Romano." He mumbled, attempting to roll over but finding his body was not responding. His brother glared as he knelt down beside his brother and thumped him on the shoe.

_If you don't get up you're going to die you know. Stop being an idiot! _Feliciano groaned and attempted to wave off his brother who was stepping on his leg with enough force to cause Feliciano pain.

"That hurts fratello!" He whined, struggling to free his leg out from under his brother's foot.

_Then listen to me! Get up. _Feliciano groaned, struggling to regain consciousness. _Try harder! _His brother ordered angrily stepping on his brother's ankle.

Feliciano screamed in pain and felt his eyes shoot open.

Kicking and flailing to get rid of the pain he found his right ankle wouldn't move no matter how hard he fought. Roaring in pain as a sharp stabbing sensation dug into his ankle he slammed his left foot at his right and made contact with whatever was causing him pain.

A sharp shriek of pain filled the air as a figure was thrown off of him. Terrified, Feliciano's sat up with a shout so he could see his ankle. He felt his eyes widen in gradual realization as instead of unmarred flesh, there was a mangled mess of torn flesh and splintered bone staring back at him.

The pain was unbelievable. Sobbing he scrambled back and found his vision flying to the woman crawling towards him again with her legs snapped and broken underneath her.

Snarling she inched her way towards his leg once more. Her mangled mouth was soaked in fresh blood and strings of raw flesh. Bawling, Feliciano scrambled for the gun at his hip, the pistol that may save him from being the rest of this woman's midnight snack.

With bloodied fingers, he snagged the weapon and flicked off the holster holding it in place. Leveling the gun once again at the woman's head as she ravenously grabbed onto his shoe, his vision blurred as the hammer connected with the charge.

With a spurt of blood and a surge of pain he felt the bullet graze his own foot and escape into the woman's skull. Without a noise, the woman dropped to the ground.

Panting and blubbering Feliciano dragged his leg out from under her and let out a wail of anguish. His ankle had been mutilated. He dared not bend or move the foot as he lay back once again his fingers raking at the icy ground in a petrified frenzy. He knew what the bite meant, he had seen it happened, but he didn't want to die, he was too scared.

"_Non voglio morire_! I don't want to die!" He wailed to the sky above him, "I don't want to be one of them!" He croaked weakly, his vision blurring and fading around him. "Help me! Nonno…Dio… Fratello… Ludwig! Someone help me!" He begged covering his face with his hands as his voice choked off into sobs. He was so tired, so alone, so afraid. He just wanted to sleep, to make it go wasn't the best place for rest, but he had no choice.

Tears streamed down his face and loud gasps escaped his lips as the blood poured from his wounded leg onto the ice and snow.

It seemed to be hours before he was able to move groaning he clenched his chattering teeth once again over his lip and began to roll slowly onto his left side. Sliding his numb arm out from under him he shifted until he was comfortable. From his position he could see the two imprints where he and the demon woman landed. There was a leg hanging raggedly out of the snow, frozen in its final resting place. The woman must have caught it on something when she fell after him.

Why couldn't she have died on impact? Why couldn't he? Feliciano felt a desperate hopelessness well up in his frozen body as his thoughts raged through his mind. Too tired to shudder despite the cold, he closed his eyes again and waited.

Waited for what?

For help?

For hope?

To die?

_I don't want to die…not here…not alone in the snow. This isn't what I want…I want to die old! I want to live! _Feliciano struggled to fight the blackness encroaching on his vision as he clenched and unclenched his hands in front of his face, desperately attempting to focus on the moving digits. _I want to fall in love! See the world! I want to tell Ludwig how wonderful I think he is! I want to tell him that I love him! _Tears streamed down his blue cheeks as he watched his fingers move desperately.

A noise above him made him jump slightly, the sound of feet striking snow. Was it an infected? Come to finish him off while he lay helpless in the snow? Was the world really that cruel?

Black boots. Coated in a thin layer of ice and hidden behind a mud soaked pant leg. Feliciano felt his eyes widen as the figure knelt and a bloodied knee fell into place in front of him. A hand cupped his cheek, more gently than one would expect from a creature about to devour its prey.

"Feli? Gott…Feliciano are you…Say something!"

Ludwig? Ludwig had found him!

Feliciano felt a surge of joy and struggled to say something in greeting to the German, but found his body unresponsive and frozen.

There was pressure on his face, behind his neck, under his knees, and against his unwounded side as he felt himself lifting slowly from the snow. His leg throbbed and he croaked in pain, only to feel the figure tense around him.

"I am so sorry…Feliciano…I…I should have gotten here faster…you hold on! I'm going to get you somewhere safe!" He blinked in response to Ludwig's frantic order, but felt himself fading into unconsciousness. He was in safe hands. He let himself go.

~X~

Ludwig looked down in horror at Feliciano's blood soaked face and watched terrified as his features became more and more serene.

His mouth hung open ever so slightly, exposing a glint of teeth soaked in blood from a split lip. His nose was badly bruised, as if he had landed on it in his decent and on of his eyes had a larger bruise around it, and his leg…oh the leg. He couldn't tell what had happened to it, it was so soaked with frozen blood, but the wound was deep and jagged something he had no hope to bandage where he was.

Feliciano was unnaturally still in his arms, frantically Ludwig looked down at his chest where he could find no noticeable rise or fall. Struggling to a stop immediately, Ludwig gently rested Feliciano against the ground. Ludwig barely noticed a small warmth slide down his cheek and freeze into a ice cube just above his lips.

Desperately, he pressed his ear against Feliciano's chest and felt panic choking off his breathing when no beat thumped behind the fabric. Fearing he might have lost Feliciano, he ripped off the boys scarf and pressed his index and middle finger against his jugular vein in hope of finding a sign of life.

There.

A subtle, steady pulse rang under his fingers. Feliciano wasn't dead. Not yet at least.

Pulling Feliciano to his lap, Ludwig frantically removed his own jacket and scarf began to wrap Feliciano as best he could. The boy was turning blue, a color that frightened Ludwig almost as much as the crimson staining the snow beneath him.

Ludwig draped the jacket over him and wrapped his wound ankle in his scarf gingerly. Carefully Ludwig slid his finger once again to Feliciano's neck and felt for the reassuring pulse still beating beneath his skin before lifting him up once again and pressing him into his broad chest and darting once again towards the camp.

Coming around one of the last corners until the camp would fall into view, he came to a jarring halt.

It was as if that day had been selected to challenge Ludwig's sanity and will to press on.

Charging down the hill not a hundred feet down the road, fifty, perhaps sixty, infected running at full speed down the hill towards the camp. Small saplings where snapped under their weight and there was no longer any remains of the fence that once stood against them. Ludwig cursed and stood for a moment in horror.

He couldn't get Feliciano back to camp. He couldn't warn the others of what was about to come knocking at their front door. All he could do was run.

Turning on his heel, Ludwig clung to Feliciano with hands that shuddered. He had no other choice, he ran.

~X~

**OK I am terrible at updating. I blame the convention! I'm so sorry for the late update. **

**Feliciano's been bit and the infected are enclosing on the rest of the group! Things aren't looking good for our survivors. Read and Reply for the next installment! **


	25. Divide And Conquer

**Warning: Blood, gore, angst. **

Elizabeta was absolutely gorgeous when she was sleeping. Brushing some hair out of her face, Gilbert smiled and shook his head at the girl who had dropped off to sleep almost directly after they had moved their conversation to the couch. She had a few more glasses of the wine than he did, and against his better judgment he had allowed her to continue. He hadn't expected her to be such a heavy drinker.

Shaking his head in amusement at her flushed appearance he stood and stretched groggily.

Glancing at the grandfather clock situated in the corner, Gilbert was alerted to just how late it really was. At just past three he should have long since retired, but of course speaking alone with Elizabeta had been too good of an opportunity to pass up. He would just have to deal with Tino's wrath the next morning when he found out that he hadn't gotten any sleep.

Yawning noisily, he moved into the kitchen in search of a bottle of water to rid his mouth of the film of fermented fruit caked onto his teeth and throat. He had always hated wine for that reason; it left a disgusting taste in his mouth. The liquid rot was far too sweet for his bitter beer loving pallet.

Locating the bottle in the fridge and downing it in two long gulps, Gilbert stared out the window into the snow covered trees lit by the magnificent full moon resting above the house.

Ludwig should be headed back by now shouldn't he? He wouldn't bother waking Elizabeta if they did, maybe he and Antonio could cover the next shift? Musing sleepily he wondered if he should attempt to lie down for a bit until they got back when he spotted a form moving through the snow surrounding the barn.

Squinting in the dull light, Gilbert frowned. Who was in the barn? Just Iain and Arthur right? Why would they be up and walking around at this hour?

Suddenly concerned, Gilbert shot a glance over his shoulder at Elizabeta who was still sleeping soundly in the living room.

_I'll just take a peek. _He told himself, grabbing his rifle from the counter and striding from the house purposefully. _It's probably just Iain…I doubt that man ever really sleeps. _Grumbling exhaustedly, he swung open the door pulling on his jacket with a growl, and squinted in the sudden blast of cold air that slapped into his face in search of his mystery figure.

Locating the form clumsily slogging through the knee high snow, Gilbert grumbled and began trudging towards him. Was he drunk or something?

"Iain? Is that you? What the hell are you doing out here so late damn it?" He barked angrily, his eyes squinting as the snow filled wind drove into his face blurring his vision. The form froze at the sound of his voice, and rotated towards Gilbert slowly. "Right I know you can hear me! Go inside already! This storm is getting ridiculous!" He roared over the noise of the forming blizzard.

Iain still remained ridged, not moving in the slightest. Scowling, Gilbert lurched forward and grabbed ahold of Iain furiously jerking him back. The man moved with him, a growl of his own forming barely audibly in the roar of the snow. Gilbert pulled the man upwards with a grunt, startled when the man grabbed onto his arms he shook him violently.

"Listen you drunk piece of shi…" The man's head snapped up with an inhuman hiss, and Gilbert came to realize his mistake all too quickly. The slack jawed beast, an infected, gurgled out a hiss as Gilbert felt his mind panic. "Oh God Damn it…" He moaned, lurching back in an attempt to free the painful grip on his arms. "_Let go_!" He roared, kicking out at the man with his steel toed boot. Instantly he felt ribs collapse and the body lurch back with a crunch.

Pulling his rifle up in a practiced motion, he fired into the creature's skull without thinking.

The blast resounded through the hills like thunder, and instantly Gilbert felt his heart drop. Standing frozen for a moment, he stared at the gun in his hands and thought for a moment he might be able to retract the noise. Maybe none of the creatures were nearby?

"Oh Gott verdammt…"He mumbled, rubbing his head and staring down at the body below him. "What the hell did I just do?"

"OI!" Gilbert looked up in shock as Iain's voice crashed through the silence. The redhead was standing in the doorway with a gun in his hand. It took him a moment to realize, but the gun itself wasn't pointed at the ground: it was pointed at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Iain?" He bellowed in confusion, his own rifle hanging uselessly at his side. Was the man really going to kill him? For what reason? What had he done? "Have you lost your _mind_?" The man didn't answer; he just kept the gun raised as he edged towards Gilbert in the snow. "Come on…put the gun down!"

Iain snorted at this, his finger squeezing the trigger. Gilbert closed his eyes; he didn't need to see his own death did he? The blast filled the air, and Gilbert felt something warm spray across his side. Yelping he jumped and threw back his hand to stem the blood flow.

He felt steel strength hands pull him forward and force his hands away from his now gaping wound. Panicked, he opened his eyes with a shout to fight off his attacker. Looking absolutely livid, Iain was scowling down at him and pointing to something behind him.

"Move already would ya? Ah didn't shoot ya, ye stupid cunt! If ah had paused long enough to calm yer ass down ye'd be dead!" Following the finger with a shaky gaze Gilbert felt relief fall from his body in the form of a sigh as yet another infected appeared, staining the snow red with its life blood. "Now let's go! That bastard has friends and ye just let them know where we're hiding!" Iain spat, hauling Gilbert towards the barn as Gilbert strained to figure out what he was talking about.

Crawling through the snow, like black shadows on a white wall, the infected were moving towards the house and barn. Appearing from the trees in a slow moving line, they were the army sent directly from hell. There were so many of them, too many to fight, and they had already reached the side of the house.

"Oh Gott…we got to warn them!" Gilbert yelped, straining to get free from Iain's hold. Iain shook his head and continued pulling Gilbert to the barn. Honestly, for someone who was supposedly injured, Iain had a surprisingly sturdy hold on Gilbert's shoulder.

"Not that ah wouldn't just love to see ya get yerself killed…but for once ye'll actually come in handy!" Iain snapped, pounding on the barn door with his free hand. "Iggy! Ah saved his ass just like ye wanted! Now let us in so we can get the others!" He hissed, nearly getting smacked in the face as the door swung open. Arthur pulled them in before Iain could curse, and soon both men found themselves behind the heavy door of the barn.

"I got as much stuff into the Humvee as I could…it's not much, but it's better than nothing. We got to get out of here." Arthur hissed, winding his scarf around his neck and leaping into the Humvee. Gilbert watched as Iain nodded affirmatively in confusion.

"_Was_ the hell are you thinking?" He snarled angrily, "Are you seriously planning on abandoning everyone in the house?" He demanded when Iain looked up at him impatiently.

"Nae, Ah'm not." Iain scowled, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and placing it between his teeth as he contemplated some idea or another. "We'd have to bring the Humvee to the house if we wanted to grab them, but that'd just bring the bastards towards the house." He mumbled as he peered through a small gap in the door with a judgmental scowl. "Are they awake in there?" He asked as he swirled around, dragging Gilbert back with him and shoving him into the front seat of the Humvee.

"I don't know! Eliza and…oh God…Eliza's asleep on the bottom floor! She's not upstairs like the others." Gilbert yelped, his mind flicking to the brunette unconscious on the couch. Iain swore, tossing a duffle bag into the back seat and moving to the door of the barn.

"What in God's name is she doing down there?" Iain's voice was harsh and directed at Gilbert furiously as he began working the latches. When Gilbert seemed unable to answer immediately he shook his head furiously. "Never mind! Don't tell me! Just start that damn truck and get ready to move the hell out of here." He snapped his hand holding the door shut as the infected slammed against the wood hungrily. Already their groping fingers were clawing under the door and through the small space Iain had been staring through not moments before. "Damn I thought these things were supposed to be slow." He spat as Gilbert started the Humvee with a roar of the engine.

"Iain! Hurry up!" Arthur bellowed over the roar of the infected. Iain rolled his eyes and stepped back with a grunt, allowing the doors to burst open as he sprinted towards the vehicle.

Leaping into the Humvee he tossed the door shut on an infected woman's hand just as she grabbed for his coat sleeve. For a moment the men sat in a stunned silence as the creatures beat at sides of the machine, leaving streaks of gore across the paint and glass.

"Well then…ah don't know about you, but…Ah really wouldn't mind driving this wonderful piece of machinery out of here." Iain mumbled, eyeing the woman's fingers in disgust. "That is, unless ya enjoy the idea of becoming a delicious late night snack for the beasties attempting to claw their way into this tin can."

Gilbert, brought back to reality by the irritated commentary coming from beside him, placed his foot onto the gas with a lurch. Instantly the reliable machine lurched forward, crushing a few unlucky infected as it struggled to clear the mass in front of them.

"God…I hope the others are at least awake." Arthur whispered, terrified in the backseat as he covered his head with his jacket. Iain didn't look back at his brother, preferring to keep an eye on the infected busting through the defensive of the well barricaded farm house.

"If God's on our sides tonight, then their awake and Tino is figuring out what to do right now." Gilbert swore as he finally broke free of the wall of infected and drew the Humvee around to face the house with a quick turn of the wheel. "If not…this sure as hell will wake them up." He growled,

"What will…." Iain cut off with a string of curses as Gilbert leaned onto the horn. "God damn it what are ye doing?" He bellowed as Gilbert released the horn and stepped on the gas as the creatures wheeled towards them and began to chase after them with a symphony of roars. Realizing the German's plan he leaned over and boxed the man on the ear. "Ye stupid cunt…alright, ye want us to be a distraction? Ah'll give ya a distraction He muttered as he pulled his shot gun from his back and moved into the backseat. "Just try nae to get us killed alright?" He threw over his shoulder as he opened the top of the vehicle and leveled his weapon at the infected clambering towards them through the deep snow.

Rubbing his ear, Gilbert grinned slightly and slammed on the gas. Momentarily, his eyes flickered towards the house where he strained to see the others taking refuge or fleeing from the area entirely.

_Come on Eliza…you'd better not still be on that couch._ He worried silently. _Get the others and… _He broke off, his mind flashing instantly to someone who had somehow managed to wiggle his way from his mind.

"Ludwig…" He choked, his mind automatically filling with the sort of panic that constricted his mind and left him stunned. Arthur looked up from his hiding spot and instantly caught the horror on his face.

"Hadn't he come back yet? I thought he was done at midnight!" Arthur put in. "Are you sure he's not just in the house with the others?" He put in hopefully. Gilbert shook his head, his hands shuddering on the wheel.

"He…he took an extra shift. Said he wasn't tired…oh God…I was supposed to…where…what if…" Instantly he felt a steely hand on his shoulder, Iain had returned to the inside of the Humvee once again and was scowling at Gilbert.

"If he's out in those woods he would have run in the opposite direction. We won't find him now, it's too dark. If anything we would get ourselves killed. Now focus your eyes on the road, or so help me ah will try to drive this massive hunk of metal and it probably wouldn't end well." Iain's tone was struggling to remain even despite the high stress of the situation, Gilbert wanted to argue for a moment, but he realized the situation they were in was grim, and they had to worry about surviving themselves if they had any chance of locating the others.

"Gilbert?" Arthur whispered his tone tense. "Can we please…you know…get away from here?" Gilbert's gaze flicked back to the road, and he swore as he noticed the crowd of infected that was approaching them at a sprint. Moving the Humvee into reverse with a fluid motion, he smirked a bit as Iain yelped and flew backwards at the sudden change of direction.

"We'll lead them away and loop back around. Hopefully Tino and the others hold out that long." Gilbert spat, revving the engine and drawing the infected away from the house.

~X~

The sound of a gunshot was not Antonio's preferred method of being roused from a particularly wonderful dream.

At first, he attempted to ignore the sound, believing that perhaps it hadn't been a gunshot at all, but the sound of Tino preparing something in the kitchen downstairs. After a moment of staring at the wall though, another shot filled the air, this one loud enough to send Antonio shooting from his bed with a cry.

"Ai Dios mio!" He yelped as he stumbled, caught on the sheets. Staggering to the window he tossed it open, peering out into the spray of white in search of the source of the shots. Distantly, he could see two male shapes rushing into the barn, as if running away from something.

Iain and Gilbert? What would they be doing out so late?

Behind them, he could see two shapes lying in the snow their bodies splayed out and unmoving. He couldn't tell who it was and for a moment he thought perhaps they were animals. Of course it was a slim hope, the shapes seemed to human, and why would Iain and Gilbert take a risk in shooting them when they were in such a fragile state of safety.

He had to force himself to look past them, fearing the worst.

Of course, it was the worst he found lurching towards the house in the snow.

The infected were already slamming themselves against the defenses surrounding the house, and in their numbers they would be soon in no time. He had no idea how much time they had, but from the looks of the cracking fence it wasn't very long.

"Oh no…oh no." He squeaked, turning from the window and nearly falling over his own feet as he scrambled to pull on his clothes and boots. "TINO!" He bellowed down the hall. "Tino! Elizabeta!" attempted again, fearing that they hadn't been roused by the gun shots. Grabbing his gun he staggered down the hall, swearing noisily as he stubbed his toe rounding a corner to fast.

Biting his lip to stop the howl he slammed open the door to Elizabeta's room, which was the closest to his, and squinted in the dark in search of the woman.

"Eliza we need…" He started, staggering to a halt in the doorway. To his utter surprise, he found that the room was open. "Wha…?" The confusion in panic in his mind was enough to leave him stunned. Had she left? Was she outside? Why wasn't she here?

He didn't have time to wonder. Turning around with a silent frenzied wail he ran a hand through his hair and threw the door closed behind him.

_What if they abandoned you? Just like the others…they left you. Forgot about you, and moved on. _Antonio whimpered as the voice in the back of his head began to raise the inner fears he had managed to suppress with Tino's help. _It's not like you're that much use to them. I mean you let Alfred die! You didn't watch Francis well enough and now he's dead and Arthur is a mess. It's all your fault you know._

"Shut up…." Antonio muttered under his breath coming to a halt in the middle of the hall and shaking his head. "They…they didn't leave me." He insisted, moving towards Tino's room with a new desperation. With a shuddering hand, fearing what he would find on the other side, he pushed open the door.

At first, it seemed as if the room was empty, and Antonio felt himself nearly crumple to the floor in his grief. Leaning against the doorframe he felt tears forming in his eyes, but suddenly straightened again as he noticed a light coming from the bathroom.

"T…Tino?" He squeaked moving forward. Almost instantly the door swung open, and Tino moved into the room adjusting his coat and gun.

"What the hell are you doing just sitting there? Did you see that horde out there? Where are Eliza and the others?" Tino demanded harshly, pulling a hat over his head and shoving past Antonio.

Antonio stumbled as the Finn rammed past him, too stunned to speak. Shaking his head furiously to clear it, he trotted after the man as quickly as he could.

"Gilbert was just outside with Iain…they ran into the barn. I…I'm not sure about Elizabeta. She wasn't in her room…" He stammered, clenching his weapon tightly as the Finn cursed loudly.

"She wasn't with Gilbert?" Tino demanded trotting down the stairs where they could hear the slamming of bodies against the wood frame of the house already.

"I didn't see her." Antonio admitted, attempting to keep up and glancing towards the boarded up windows cautiously. Tino didn't say anything; instead he just burst into the bottom floor at top speed.

"Elizabeta where are you?" He hissed into the darkness, wincing as a loud crunch alerted them to an infected breaking through a window somewhere. He held up a hand to tell Antonio to not move as he saw one of the infected men stagger into the kitchen with a hungry moan. It hadn't seen them yet, their eyes not as strong as the humans' in the dark.

Of course it was across the room that he spotted Elizabeta.

The girl was curled into a terrified ball, weaponless and caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the infected she had taken refuge in the coat closet and was waving towards Tino with wide eyes. She didn't know what to do, and was quickly running out of time with the relentless infected slamming against the walls outside.

Tino quickly handed his gun to Antonio, not wanting to alert the infected to life inside the house, and pulled out his hunting knife. His eyes locked with Elizabeta's, he held a finger to his lips and slowly began creeping towards the ambling lone infected.

As he approached the creature, he held the knife up higher, hoping to end the massive creature before its companions noticed him.

He was almost touching the man…his blade held back and ready to strike. He lifted the blade with a sharp intake of breath and…

_**HOOOOOOONNNNNNNNK**_

Tino jumped as the Humvee's horn sounded, his blow once aimed for the skull missing completely and instead embedding into the creatures neck with a spurt of blood and embedding into the collar bone. Startled Tino felt his hand, slick with fresh blood and sweat, slip free of the knife as the creature turned towards him with a howl of hunger. Staggering backwards Tino swore and kicked upwards, turning to Elizabeta and signaling for her to run.

"Attic, go now!" He hissed, drawing a second knife and embedding it into the man's skull as it moved towards him. Turning as she rushed past him, he shepherded the two younger people up the stairs at a sprint.

"Where's Gilbert and the others?" Elizabeta demanded as they reached the third floor and Tino yanked down the attic drawstring with a tug allowing the ladder to tumble from the ceiling.

"Don't know…thought you would know better than me." Tino explained, glancing over his shoulder at the shadows lurching up the staircase. "Up you go, they're big boys they can handle themselves." He insisted, waiting for the other two to scramble up before following at a sprint and pulling the ladder up behind them just before the infected lumbered onto the third floor.

Holding a hand over his mouth he silently shifted until he was on his stomach and could peer down at the infected through a small crack in the floor of the attic.

The infected hadn't seen them climb the ladder, and would most likely lumber around the house until they reached something they couldn't pass like a wall, but he had no way of knowing when they would leave or if they would. They were safe for now, but trapped in a room where even the slightest noise could alert the infected to their presence.

Looking up at the others he frowned knowingly and sat up slowly enough as to not disturb the wood they rested on. They couldn't talk…couldn't plan. They could only sit and hope that the infected either moved on…or that Gilbert and the others looped around for them.

Tino felt Elizabeta take his hand and looked up with a grimace. She looked as terrified as him, but was attempting a smile. Sadly he smiled and closed his eyes; they were in for a long night.

~X~

Ludwig was beyond panic, at this point he was a machine: a machine that kept pushing forward despite the exhaustion pulling at the back of his mind and the terror holding his other senses hostage. He had managed to lose the infected, but of course the infected hadn't been chasing him in the first place: they had been more preoccupied with the fortified house and barn.

His only concern for the moment was Feliciano who seemed to be slowly fading away in his arms even as he ran.

Keeping his eyes out for any sign of safety, his eyes quickly located a ladder leading up into a tree where a small hunting shack could be seen hanging from the treetops. Glancing around him quickly he made a b-line for the treetop spot when he didn't find dangerous in the looming trees.

"It's ok Feli. I have you, don't you give up on me do you hear me?" He whispered harshly, adjusting Feliciano until he could carry him over his shoulders and climb without further injuring the boy. Feliciano moved with him limply, his breathing ragged and harsh in his ear as he started ascending the ladder as quickly as humanly possible. "You're going to be fine." He explained, noticing how Feliciano's eyes flickered slightly when he spoke. "Everything is going to be ok."

Reaching the top of the ladder he shoved open the small trapdoor with his shoulder, and groaned in relief when it swung open to reveal a small empty room protected from the snow and wind. Shuffling his way into the space he pulled Feliciano from his shoulders and gently placed him onto the wooden floor. There wasn't enough room to stand, but at least they were safe and in a place that was much warmer than outside for the moment.

Turning back to Feliciano he quickly set to work examining him for injuries.

"The wound on your ankle isn't that bad…what's wrong with you Feliciano?" He demanded softly, pulling the boy's pant leg back and examining it. He couldn't make out too much detail about the wound, other than the fact that it was a mass of blood and torn skin.

_Did he cut it when he fell? _Ludwig wondered, cutting the fabric with a pocket knife and pulling his flashlight from his pack and focusing the beam onto the injury. _This wound is a mess. _He grimaced, turning away from it and reverting his attention to the boy's head, where he swore he had felt blood when he picked the boy up.

Pulling off the beanie covering the boy's ears he quickly located the cut, tracing up behind his ear and up the side of his head.

_That explains him being unconscious. _He mused, gently moving his thick auburn hair away from the wound to examine it more closely. _He's so warm…why is his skin so hot? _He blinked, retracting his hand after brushing his hand past his feverish skin. _It's below freezing out there…he shouldn't be burning up. Is he sick? He seemed fine…I'm no expert on wounds, but I don't think people with concussions usually develop temperatures. _He felt a sudden disconcerting feeling about the strange wound on Feliciano's leg. _It…isn't a bite. _He promised himself, drawing closer to the boy and gently prodding the skin around the wound.

Softly, Feliciano whimpered at the pressure, the simplest of touch sending waves of pain into his unconscious form. Ludwig sat back with a groan and pulled out a first aid kit, determined to solve it once and for all.

With shuddering hands, Ludwig cleaned the wound with as much delicacy as he could attempting not to harm the boy further. Dabbing at the bruised skin, he found that the wound was much less jagged than he thought it was originally. In fact, it was almost a perfect circle.

A circle?

What makes a circular wound? Ludwig felt his blood chill as his mind flew back to every infected person he had ever encountered.

On each of their undead bodies there was a circular wound, deep and torn from the flesh with force: A bite.

A bite always meant death.

Ludwig sat back with sudden apprehension, feeling his eyes starting to fill with tears of realization.

He hadn't been fast enough.

Rubbing his eyes, Ludwig leaned back and placed his head into his hands.

It was his fault. He hadn't gotten to Feliciano in time, and now he was going to die. Looking up at the brunette he reached forward and gently ran a shuddering hand through his sweat soaked hair.

"Es tut mir lied…I am so sorry Feliciano." He choked, pulling the boy into his arms. "Please…don't go…" he begged, noticing how pale Feliciano looked. "Feliciano Vargas…you get up right now!" He ordered, his shoulders shaking. "Bitte?" His voice cracked softly as he spoke, filling the small space despite the volume.

He knew what he would have to do if the boy changed, but… Ludwig's hand flitted to his gun, would he be able to do it? He had lost so much already he wasn't sure if he would be able to kill Feliciano too.

Beside him, Feliciano whined softly in his sleep, his hand twitching slightly and his trembling mouth opening into a soft silent sob. He was in pain, and there was nothing that Ludwig could do but…

He lifted the gun. Did he have the nerve?

Feliciano whimpered beside him, and Ludwig felt his heart shatter. He couldn't. Ludwig tossed the weapon away with disgust and instead pulled Feliciano into his lap. He felt tears stream down his cheek and splash onto Feliciano's head as he buried his face into the Italian's soft tresses.

If Feliciano changed, well then God help Ludwig, because he wasn't sure he would be able to defend himself. He could shoot Feliciano, he just couldn't. Mourning silently, Ludwig leaned against the wall of the shelter and closed his eyes listening quietly for Feliciano's shaky breath against his shoulder.

Outside, he could hear the sound of the wind howling in grief into the dim starless night.

~X~

**Let me begin my three part apology by tell you that you are a wonderful person…Ok so I was moving alright!? I'm sorry it took my so long to update but moving does take quite a bit of your time right?! Anyway one month overdue, this is the latest installment. **

**I had to get this up today…or at least 10 minutes before today ended because well it's Ms. Britain's b-day! Happy b-day and hopefully this makes up for my being a terrible terrible person.**

**So things have pretty much gone to hell, and situations aren't likely to get better soon if nothing spectacular happens. What is going to happen to the now divided group in this world gone mad?! **


	26. Leap Of Faith

The terror lacing the air of the attic was dense enough that Antonio could nearly taste it.

Perhaps it was the fact that they knew that even a sneeze may be enough to alert the shuffling infected of their presence. They were trapped, plain and simple. Their route back into the house clogged with disorientated infected and the only other option a two story drop onto the ground below.

For the first time they were caught without a plan or a way out, and for the first time the thought of death seemed like a likely ending.

Once again, Antonio felt helpless. It seemed he was more likely to sprout wings than find an exit for his team. Instead, he simply stared into the darkness of the attic. His arm draped around Elizabeta's ridged form as her pale green eyes darted around the space in search of a weapon or an escape route. Across from them, Tino was peering out from the small vent at the edge of the claustrophobic space. What else could he do? Antonio's mind was hazy and terrified. He was of no use to the Finn or the Hungarian sharing his hiding spot.

Tino, on the other hand, was deep in thought. His eyes flicked across every inch of the room at once, his mind running through scenarios like a computer, plotting out each route with a calculating eye. Each plank of wood was a weapon in his mind, each crack in the wall a potential escape route.

After only thirty minutes of deduction, from where he was sitting he could see a possible opportunity for escape: Outside the vent, fallen snow from the roof had formed a mound that he guessed should be about four to five feet deep. If he was correct, the snow was deep enough to create a cushion that would create enough resistance to allow them to land safely even from the attic of the two story house.

If he kicked out the vent quietly enough to not draw attention from the half frozen infected lumbering around outside, they could escape into the woods without so much as a scuffle. From there it was a direct line to the small side road leading to a house Ivan claimed had once belonged to his neighbor just a half mile away. If they could make it to the house, he could take more time to think of a way to reach the main road and attempt to find the others who had hopefully escaped unscathed in the Humvee.

It was a long shot, but unless they wanted to fight their way out there were no other options.

Turning towards the others, he lifted a hand to gain their attention. Almost immediately, two pairs of green eyes were staring back at him in the dull light of the moon. Pointing to the vent, he slowly began edging his way across the boards of the attic towards the edge.

The other two followed his movements cautiously, flinching each time one of the boards would creak or an infected would moan below them for fear that they had been discovered. Once they realized where he was heading, they slowly began following after him, their eyes trained onto his form as he began examining the screws holding the vent in place.

Each one was rusted, melding the metal of the vent to the screws themselves. Obviously Ivan hadn't spent much time remodeling the attic in his free time.

In order to remove the screws, he would need a screwdriver. He had hoped that they would have been relatively easy to open, something he could pull undo with a coin or a thumb nail. Of course life never seemed to work that way for him.

Grumbling to himself furiously he turned towards Elizabeta and Antonio, creating a motion one might associate with a screwdriver, he hoped that they might come through for him.

He was sorely disappointed.

When neither of his companions could dig up anything, Elizabeta having been forced to leave even her jacket behind during their rush to escape, he was forced to improvise.

Pulling out his pocket knife, he flicked open the razor thin blade and held it up to one of the screws. If this didn't work, he would kick the damn thing out despite the attention he might attract by doing so.

To his surprise, by turning the blade flat, he was able to create a makeshift screwdriver. One by one, the screws came grinding out of their holes. Protesting noisily at their mistreatment, the screws seemed to make more noise than a jackhammer in his panicked mind. Below him he could hear the infected staggering around in confusion, attempting to locate the source of the noise coming from just above them.

"Ai dios mio." Antonio whispered, his eyes flicking to the floor beneath them as the creatures began clawing at the walls below them, their moans carrying into the small space. "Hurry!" Tino barely heard the man's plea, his eyes were locked onto the grate in front of him.

A final pop, and the last rusted screw came free. Smiling slightly and wiping the perspiration forming on his brow despite the cold, he took hold of the sides of the vent, and with a grunt tore the rusted thing from the opening.

With a final dying screech, the vent popped free from the wall and a fresh gust of frigid night air immediately slammed into the terrified trio. Tossing the metal aside he peered out into the snow below them and swallowed heavily.

If he was wrong and the snow was not deep enough, he could easily break both his legs if not more in a two story fall. Sighing he fell back on his heels and rubbed his temples.

"I'll go first." He insisted, not looking back at the other two. "Try not to land upright; you'll end up breaking your legs. Instead land on your back, flat as if you were aiming for a pillow or bed." Staring down into the snow below, Elizabeta and Antonio grimaced.

"Is this the only way?" Elizabeta questioned softly. A crack below, the sound of the infected clawing their way through the walls was enough to answer her question. "What are they doing?" She didn't look at Antonio as she asked, but he knew the question was directed at him.

Slowly Antonio lowered himself onto the ground and peered through a crack in the floor boards that led straight down to the hallway below them. Almost immediately, he felt a chill crawl up his form as he spotted the lurching, lumbering forms stumbling around the floor beneath them. From where he was perched, he could spot a few of them tearing chunks away from the wall just below them in search of the humans they had misplaced. Already they were completely through the drywall and were tearing through the second layer into the rest room beyond.

"Mi Dios…" He croaked, lurching away and scrambling towards the window. "They're breaking the house apart. They must have seen us or something…they normally aren't this determined to get into places." Tino hissed in distaste.

"Are they looking up here at all?" He demanded, suddenly worried that they may be pursued if they were to attempt an escape out the window with the infected as riled up as they were.

Antonio shook his head vigorously his body quivering in fear at the sheer number of infected below them just waiting for the trapped humans to make their move.

"They're focused on the wall…but if they do too much damage to the supports we may be making a sudden fall right into their arms." He explained hurriedly.

"If we are going to go we need to go now!" Elizabeta hissed her hands clutching the edge of the open gap leading to the outside world. "We don't have time to mess around." Tino had no time to realize the woman's intentions as she heaved herself forward into the open air. Swirling around he cursed and pulled himself over to the window. Peering out into the snow he quickly spotted the Hungarian shaped hole in the snow and winced.

"Eliza?" He demanded quietly. "Damn it, are you alright?" A hand shot out of the hole with a flurry of snow with a thumb up as Elizabeta slowly crawled clear of her pile. "You reckless little brat..." He groaned rubbing his temples. "Nearly gave me a heart attack." He spat moving into the opening and tossing himself out into the frigid air beyond.

The snow was icy. Landing in it was similar to landing on a patch of stinging nettle, not deadly, but not pleasant in the slightest. Moaning in irritation he pulled himself from the snowy pile, accepting the helping hand as Elizabeta offered it.

Standing with effort he turned towards Antonio and waved at him furiously. The Spaniard balked a bit, unnerved by the height, his already frantic mind not quite comprehending the need to jump from such a height.

"This is not a good time for you to tell me you're afraid of heights!" Tino hissed up to the man over the roar of the wind around him. "Jump already God damn it!" he ordered, scanning around him frantically in search of potential threats.

"Come on Antonio! It's not bad at all. It's fun!" Elizabeta insisted, catching a glimpse of some infected in the window just below Antonio and swallowing heavily when she the creatures were staring back at her hungrily. "Damn it Antonio _jump!" _ She spat her heart pounding frantically.

Antonio nodded his eyes wide and terrified as he took a small step back and lurched forward just as the glass exploded below him. Elizabeta squeaked in terror as noticed man and infected tumbled to the ground, landing just feet away from each other.

"Damn it!" Tino swore as Antonio yelped and began rolling away from the grabbing hands of the infected, their numbers increasing as more poured from the room above crushing the infected who had landed before them. "Grab him!" He ordered hacking at the hands and heads of the infected closest to Antonio with his knife.

Elizabeta jumped into movement before Tino could order her twice, Grabbing onto Antonio's arms she heaved him backwards and out of the thick snow.

"On your feet ! Go go go!" She bellowed pulling him backwards as the infected scrambled to grab onto them, their forms slow but desperate in the deep snow. Using Elizabeta as a ladder of sorts, Antonio heaved himself to his feet, kicking an infected in the face as she latched onto his ankle and started chewing at the souls of his boots.

"Let go!" He barked managing to break free and lurch to his feet.

"Tino come on!" Elizabeta cried, turning and starting to sprint towards the dense woods behind them, her hand clenched around Antonio's. Tino nodded, and embedding his knife into the eye socket of a particularly speedy infected, wrenched the blade free and took off running after the duo.

~X~

The Humvee made a steady path through the snow, blasting through both snow and infected like a knife through butter. Though their speed was at no more than a crawl due to the depth of the snow around them, they managed to keep just beyond the slobbering infected's reach.

Inside the Humvee, the tension could be carved out with a knife. Gilbert's growing panic merged with Iain's rising fury in a near cataclysmic fashion. Arthur, huddling in the back of the Humvee, could see his brother's brow twitch as Gilbert's fingers drummed against the steering wheel.

"Would ye _stop_ tapping your damn fingers?" Iain spat, turning towards the Albino and scowling furiously. "Ah know yer freaking out and shit…but God damn it yer getting annoying!" Gilbert's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I'm sorry, I guess we can't all be insensitive assholes that don't give a shit whether or not our group is devoured by the living dead!" He hissed dangerously, his voice barely raising above a whisper.

"Don't ye dare go there! Ah may not be quite as emotional as ye, but don't ye dare try to tell me that ah don't care." Arthur felt his blood chill as his brother snarled, his tone icy.

"Someone who cared would be trying to get back to that damn house! Not running for their lives like cowards!" Gilbert's tone was even, level in a way that was unnaturally calm for the man.

"Oh, and ye had some sort of great plan as to how ye'd get into the house and save the damsel in distress?" Iain demanded sarcastically. "That's just like you…thinking ye can save the world when the worlds already past saving." Gilbert's hands tensed around the wheel, his jaw set with a click of teeth.

"Well it's just like you to be a self-centered son of a bitch."

"Let me tell you something pretty boy…" Iain growled, jabbing Gilbert in the shoulder. "If ye think ah'll risk everything on a rescue trip that would never work…yer horribly mistaken." Gilbert smacked the hand away in disgust, his eyes locked on the road and his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"We have to turn around…Elizabeta and the others are still in that house and _mein bruder_ and Feliciano are in that God damn undead infested forest somewhere!" Gilbert spat as he forced the Humvee steadily forward in the door high snow leading down to the main road. Iain shook his head.

"Ye want to lead those bastards back to them?" He demanded furiously, pointing to the massive horde following after them, slogging through the snow at a steady monotonous pace. "Cause ah'm nae sure they'd appreciate that." Gilbert opened his mouth to protest, his eyes sparking furiously.

"Would you two shut it?" Arthur roared over the two of them, the sudden appearance of his voice enough to startle the two into silence. Looking back at the furious boy they raised an eyebrow in confusion. "We do not have _time _to argue right now!" He spat, crossing his arms in front of him and sitting back with grunt.

"Then what do you suppose we do?" Gilbert spat, his eyes locked on the road ahead of them, wishing he had a clear patch of road to use to lose the infected once and for all. Iain sat back in his seat for a moment his finger tapping against the side of his face.

"We go as far as it takes to lose the bastards…then we circle around and see if the others are all right." Iain put in after a moment. "Ah suggest we go as far as the main road, lead them down to the water before we give them the slip." Arthur nodded in agreement, barely peeping out from behind his knee caps.

Gilbert didn't say anything for a long while, his throat constricting and his feeling of hopeless becoming overwhelming. What could do? His brother could be hurt, he could be dead for all he knew, and there was nothing he could do to help him.

"Do you think they're alive?" Gilbert demanded, his voice coming out no louder than a whisper despite his original hopes to keep a level tone. "I mean I know there were quite a few of those…those damn infected, but…there's a chance that their fine right?"

Iain hesitated for a moment, fighting the urge to be brutaly realistic when he caught a glimpse of Arthur scowling at him from the back seat. He would just have lie, or at least say something to bolster up the miserable looking albino's confidence if he wanted to stay in his already furious brother's good graces.

"Aye…Ah'm sure their fine. Tino's a smart guy, and he has Antonio and Elizabeta to help him if he needs it." He grunted, not looking at Gilbert, "And Ludwig…" Iain glanced at Gilbert as he spoke. "From what I've seen of him, he's as stubborn as an ass, and ah'm sure he's managed to get away by sheer determination." He grumbled Gilbert nodded slightly in agreement, his eyes holding a dull appreciation for the attempt at a compliment. "Just drive so we can circle around and find them." He ordered, leaning against the window bitterly.


	27. Going Out With a Bang

**Warnings: A stressed writer makes for angst filled writing. **

Ludwig felt as if a hole was forming in his heart.

His gun was burning a hole in his palm as he stared down at the Italian wheezing painfully across from him. He knew what he had to do, but the idea of losing the boy when he had promised he would care for him tore him apart on the inside. He couldn't deny that Feliciano had been bit, and bit more than once by the look of his leg, but still he couldn't bring himself to make the call.

Leaning against the wall across from him he ran a hand through the Italian's hair. If he knew the infection, then Feliciano didn't have much time left. First a fever and a wet blood filled cough. Followed closely by the pain that left the infected person unable to stand or eat. Like a final insult, nausea often accompanied this stage as the systems of the body shut down slowly. It was painful, and always ended the same way, with the carrier comatose and slowly fading away.

Feliciano had been lucky enough to skip the first few stages, his injuries enough to render him unconscious. All that was left now was for his heart to stop, and he would be gone.

Staring out into the snow Ludwig let a shuddering breath escape from his lips. Running the hand that wasn't holding the accursed gun he felt a tear roll down his face. Distantly he wondered if his brother and the others had escaped, if they had managed to get away from that horde without warning or a chance to prepare.

Maybe they were dead? It was a possibility that his brother, Elizabeta, Tino…everyone, were dead. What if they weren't dead and instead they were lying injured somewhere in the middle of the forest praying for salvation that might never come. Perhaps they were being devoured alive, their screams falling on deaf ears as they were torn apart by vicious hands.

He tried not to think about it, but the longer he spent sitting alone in the cold, the more scenarios he came up with. His brother might not have tried to escape, and had instead decided to try and find him. Gilbert would probably try something stupid like that if it meant protecting his little brother.

Though he knew he shouldn't think like that, he felt the thoughts eating away at him endlessly as the night wore on. Images of the infected tearing into his brother as he stumbled through the forest in a vain attempt to find him filled his mind like a cloud. The different scenarios his mind conjured into his mind left him reeling. Cradling his head in his hands he felt tears stream down his cheeks. He hadn't felt so scared and alone since he was a small child terrified of some unknown monster, but this time the monsters were real, and there was no one to tell him it was going to be ok.

He was so distracted by his grief and confusion, that he didn't hear Feliciano's raspy breathing shortening and growing shallower until it was barely audible over the sound of the wind.

It was the silence that broke his concentration. Looking up after a moment of pained frantic panic, he felt his heart shatter. Feliciano was completely still, his face serene for the first time in hours as he lay on the floor across from him.

Was he dead? Ludwig felt the thought enter his head before he could stop it. Moving towards him slowly he held his gun in his hand purposefully.

"Feliciano?" He whispered reaching out and prodding the boy gently. When he didn't react to the touch, Ludwig sat back with the gun shuddering in his hands. "Feliciano." He muttered a bit louder. "Feliciano…say something. _Bitte_… tell me you aren't gone." The boy didn't react to his voice, his eyes sealed shut stubbornly. Moving forward Ludwig took a shuddering breath and gently brushed some hair out of his face.

He knew he was going to change, there was nothing he could do to stop that, but that didn't dull the pain in his heart at the idea of putting a bullet through the Italian's skull.

Ludwig had a choice to make, finish him before he woke and put him out of his misery, or put a bullet through his head when he woke up and started to go for his throat.

"I'm sorry Feli…" He whispered, coming to a decision with a heart wrenching pang in his chest. He couldn't afford to let the man attack him; he still had to find his brother and the others after all. Feeling a tear roll down his face, he slowly placed the barrel of his gun up to the brunette's sweat soaked forehead. "I am so sorry Feli…Gott…I had hoped it would never be you." He muttered, clenching his eyes shut and taking a deep shuddering breath.

He had to do it.

It would just take a moment, he wouldn't feel a thing. It was for the best. Would he rather be a flesh eating monster? Ludwig didn't think so, but that didn't make the idea of ending his suffering anymore pleasant. Feeling tears roll down his face, he steeled himself and opened his eyes with a crack, his hand tightening on the trigger…

And felt his heart stop.

It wasn't the serene face of the dead that he found when he lowered his gaze onto the Italian, instead a pair of glazed over brown eyes stared back at him. A low moan broke through the Italian's throat and Ludwig felt as though he might die.

Feliciano was awake.

_~X~_

_We are never going to make it. There's just too many…they'll overrun us before too long. _

If anything, Tino was clever. He was highly effective at analyzing a situation, assessing possibilities, and discovering possible solutions long before others had a chance to look over the entire scene. He was always able to find an escape route, or a way to defend himself until an escape route became available. What was so different now? His mind searched the forest around him frantically, desperately, but still no routes of escape opened themselves up to him.

They had been running for almost a half an hour through the snow, slowly attempting to gain some distance between their ravenous pursuers. Already, the cold and the altitude were taking their toll on his small posse. Elizabeta, who he had bundled as best he could in his outer layer of clothing, was starting to look blue around her nose and fingers. Antonio was lagging considerably, his body wracked with shivers from exhaustion almost more than the cold. Though Tino managed to keep him at a decent pace with shouts of encouragement and gentle shoves, they were decreasing in speed slowly. This bothered him to no end, because even the slightest decrease in pace was enough to give the pursuing infected a greater chance of closing the already slender gap between infected and survivor.

A barbwire fence stretched out in front of them only thirty feet away through the knee high snow. It was Tino's only hope in that moment; if they could reach that they could gain the valuable time they needed to form an actual escape plan.

Slicing open the skull of an infected that had staggered to close with the edge of his hunting blade, Tino rotated with a snarl and fired a shot from his pistol into another creature's eye socket. Grabbing Elizabeta's arm he heaved her out of a deep patch of snow and all but shoved her in front of him.

"Get over that fence!" He barked following after them as closely as he could manage. Antonio was the first to reach the barrier, pulling up the wire he allowed Elizabeta to throw herself through before following after himself careful to avoid the second strand hidden somewhere below the snow. Tino followed shortly after, slaughtering another infected with a knife through the roof of the mouth as he leapt over the fence.

Not hesitating to see if his theory would work and the infected would be delayed by the wire, Tino grabbed Antonio's arm and hauled him towards what he hoped would be Ivan's vaguely mentioned neighbor's house.

"Where are we even going?" Elizabeta gasped as she staggered through the snow after the two men. Tino didn't bother shooting a glance at the woman, instead he kept his eyes flickering across the tree line in search of either additional infected, or the house.

"If we can get to the house Ivan mentioned before, I might be able to take the second I need to think about an actual plan!" Tino snapped his feet moving through the powdery snow like lead bricks attached to two shuddering rubber bands. "Unless you have a better idea…just shut up and run!" He ordered coming over a hill just as the infected burst through the barbed wire like a tidal wave of gnashing teeth and raking fingernails. The hill was steep, and coated in a thick layer of snow that would make it hard to scale, but lying at the bottom was the house they had been searching for.

Swearing as the infected came lumbering towards them once again, Tino strained to think of an easy way down the hill.

"We can just slide down." Antonio rasped out behind him. Tino rotated on his heal in surprise, having not heard a word from the Spaniard since they started running. "We…we could slide down it…" He repeated looking exhausted, but determined. Tino nodded, tugging off yet another layer of clothing he settled it onto the snow as Elizabeta and Antonio followed suit. Lying down on the strip of fabric as the infected lumbered towards them hungrily he tossed himself at the slope.

It was much faster than he was expecting. Hitting the ground at an angle he found himself hurtling towards the ground below, his coat just barely brushing across the snow as they once again slipped out of the infected's reach. Hitting a rough patch of snow at the bottom of the hill, he felt himself roll, flying forward until he rammed into something that left his head reeling.

Looking up he found that he had struck the fence surrounding the property, his head ringing from the impact he groaned and clutched at his aching head. Swearing up a storm, he rolled onto his back and sat up as Elizabeta and Antonio landed in a tangled mess next to him. Not wasting the time it would take to catch his breath, Tino pulled the two to their feet.

_The infected will catch up with us…even if we hide out in here, we'll never fight them off. _He thought almost despondently as he scanned over the building. From where he was sitting, he could see that the garage was open, that would allow them to hide for a bit, but the infected would tear about the house eventually. Staggering towards the building, Tino had come to the sick realization that they were too badly outnumbered to hold the infected at bay. He had hoped to escape into the house, to barricade the doors and fight, but there were just too many. Glancing at the young duo staggering exhaustively beside him, he came to a decision.

_They can't die…not yet. You've had a good life Tino, not long, but good. Let them have that chance. _

There was an option that could save their lives. A shed, just behind the house that was built of sturdy wood and steel, sat in the snow just behind the house out of the direct line of sight of the infected. It was perfect for a temporary shelter from the ambling infected coming over the hill behind them. If he hid the two in there, he could distract the infected, draw them off…deal with them however he had to. He just needed them to survive even for just one more night.

He didn't say anything to the duo though they were shooting him frantic looks, silently demanding he give them instructions. Rushing up to the shed, he opened the door with a grunt, shoving aside the snow build up around the door.

"Quick in here!" He ordered, shoving Elizabeta inside. Antonio hesitated, his eyes shooting a glance towards the infected marching towards them through the snow.

"Tino they saw us come in here…we'll be trapped!" He rasped out, the exhaustion on his painful for Tino to look at. "Tino we just have to keep running…try to loop around and figure out where the others went…this is suicide they'll just break through the door!" He snapped when Tino shook his head and handed the Spaniard his coat and draping it around his shoulders. "What are you…Tino let's just keep running ok?" His voice came out in a frantic stammer as he seemed to realize what the man was doing.

"We can't keep running Antonio…" Tino whispered reaching out and ruffling his hair. "You be good ok kid? Stay out of trouble" He ordered his eyes flickering with grief momentarily. "Get Elizabeta and yourself out of here in the morning …get to town, and if you can't find the others then I want you to get somewhere safe. Stay together, and take care of each other." Antonio shook his head furiously, his eyes widening slightly.

"Tino…what are you saying? You're going to be there with…_hey_!" Antonio cried, feeling himself being shoved backwards into the shed. Righting himself with some struggle he jumped to his feet he let out a small cry of terror as the door slammed shut behind him. "_Tino_! Tino, _no_! Por favor! Don't do this!" He sobbed attempting to shove open the door only to find the Finn had jammed something between the two handles keeping it sealed from the outside. "Dios NO! Por favor! _Tino_!" His wails where silenced as Elizabeta threw herself forward and wrapped her icy hand around his mouth.

"I love him too, but damn it, it's too late to stop him, Antonio! If you shout you'll just draw them to us and we'll all die!" She whispered tears streaming down her face as he struggled against her hold. "God…I'm so sorry…I am so sorry, Antonio." She choked out, lowering him to the ground as he let out a silent wail and slumped up against her.

Tino could hear Antonio's shouts die down as he turned to face the encroaching infected. His gun in his hand he glared and fired a shot at one of the closest, killing it instantly.

"Come at me you bastards!" He roared, a few tears streaking from his eyes despite his best efforts. The dead let out hisses of hunger as they lurched forward, their eyes locked onto him not noticing the two lives he had hidden inside the shed. "That's right you sick sons of bitches! Come get me! I'm right here! Let's go!" He barked rushing towards the house. He would fight off as many as he could in the house, and hoped that by morning they would be distracted enough by…him… for Elizabeta and Antonio to escape.

_Good luck you two. _

He was pulled from his thoughts as his foot caught onto something hidden beneath the snow beside the house and he was sent spiraling towards the ground. He winced as his pant leg slid free from his boots and the icy cold snow bit into the skin of his leg, seeping through his wool socks and biting into the exposed flesh beneath.

Releasing a curse he attempted to pull himself up from the ground, only to have the snow give-way beneath his thrashing legs, causing him to stumble forward once again. He felt his face collide with the snow and cursed as his lip split against the icy snow. A string of profanities ran along his now bloodied lips as he managed to get a foot beneath him and heave himself to his feet.

Standing he shifted his weight until he could start walking again, stabbing an infected that wandered too close with a growl. Shaking he had to force his weary and exhausted body the remaining few feet towards the front of the house. Remembering the horde behind him he spun around. They had closed the already meager distance quicker than he had expected and were now only twenty feet away.

Tino could feel his heart beat against his chest like a drum. He had seen people eaten by these creatures. Watching from the windows for such a long time, he had seen it happen several times. Someone would stumble out onto the streets screaming, pleading for help and would be met with a horde of infected.

So many times he told himself he could have saved these people, but he didn't…couldn't…wouldn't. He let them die; he might as well have killed them himself. His life was more important to him. Was this karma catching up with him? Placing him in same the position he had forced others into?

From his window, he had seen skin ripped away from his bones, muscles devoured and torn, bones snapped and blood spilt until there was nothing left but fragments. The sounds they made when they devoured a victim were almost as bad as the sight, the slurps and crunches made him sick to his stomach simply thinking about it. The worst part was the screams. The horrible scream of anguish and agony as the life was torn from the unfortunate stragglers whose time on the world was over.

That _wouldn't _happen to him! He wouldn't let it. He would end himself long before they could drive their teeth into his flesh.

He saw white for a moment when his hair was pulled viciously from behind. Roaring with pain he yelped and spun around disregarding the pain in his scalp. An infected woman, with a crushed left eye socket and a slack jaw, had managed to grab onto his hair when he rounded the corner. Hissing she attempted to lurch closer to him only to miss by inches as he threw up his arm and allowed her to sink her teeth into the inches of cloth and cotton. Stumbling to the ground he scrambled to find something to defend himself with. His fingers desperate he felt his hands brush up against something metal and pulled it from the snow. Jamming the icy screwdriver forward he grimaced at the squelch as her one remaining eye burst. She hissed in protest and he felt bile rise up in his throat, but he swallowed it back down and stabbed again. Cringing as the woman, regardless of how many times she was stabbed still fought back.

Finally Tino drove the entirety of the knife into her shattered skull, handle and all. She squealed and fell forward into the snow. Tino attempted to wrench the screwdriver free, but the handle was too slick and the metal shoved too far into her skull. Swearing he struggled to get to his feet, the horde was even closer, almost on top of him now.

He stumbled, getting his shaking feet underneath him once again, and booked it towards the front door. He would fight them off there for as long as he could.

"Perekle!" He yelped as his foot slipped for a moment on the ice slicking the stairs leading up to the door of the nearest house. Falling he felt his hand clench around the railing, jerking him to a stop. Swearing nosily he pulled himself further along the stairwell until he was finally able to slam himself into the door.

"Open! Open! Open!" He swore as he fumbled with the slippery doorknob leading to his possible momentary salvation.

Finally the door gave way and allowed him to push through the door. He slammed it behind himself and ran through the front room trying to find somewhere that would possibly hide him, or shelter him from the infected for just a moment, maybe even long enough for the infected to move on? He hadn't given up hope yet: he could still get out of this if he played his cards right.

Scanning the room as the infected slammed themselves against the closed door he spotted a large, heavy door, that most likely lead to the garage he had seen before and bolted for it. He just needed a moment to think, just a minute to gather his thoughts.

He pried the door open and slipped through as the front door gave way behind him. Grumbling he propped up the closest things he could find against the door. Soon he was protected by a tub of dog food, a bike, a wash bin, and a barbeque. Tino gave a small nod at the barricade and began to pace the room. What could he do? What would shield him from the infected slamming their way through the door?

There was a truck in the center of the room, but it had no front tire and no keys. He thought of hiding beneath it, but he knew that would only hinder his movements and they would eventually spot him anyway.

He winced as he heard the wood splinter and spotted a few hands break through wood and claw towards him. Tino felt his blood chill as he glanced at the partially open garage door behind him.

He had two options, wait and put a cap in his head when things got too bad, or attempt to make a run for it. He knew either option was only prolonging the inevitable, but it didn't hurt to hope.

"Damn it!" He cursed to himself, shaking his head and clutching his rifle to his chest, his eyes flashed around the garage for an escape. Some sort of escape! He came up with nothing as the door was finally pulled down and the infected began pulling themselves through the door.

He closed his eyes for the moment, accepting the fact that he had entirely lost this round.

_Well damn. _He thought, surprising himself as he found a smile inching its way onto his lips as the first of the mangled bodies managed to squeeze out from the small hole that was formed in the door. _Sorry, Berdwald looks like I couldn't fix this world after all. _He said to himself, _well, at least I'll be with you and Peter soon. _The infected were getting closer. He didn't plead or sob for them to stop, they were beyond reasoning and he knew this. He just fired off a few rounds into the closest infected and felt a few tears roll down his face as he backed into the truck.

Suddenly, Tino felt warmth envelop him like a spark. A familiar warmth and a feeling like arms weaving their way around him for a moment he swore he could see Berdwald in his peripheral vision, holding his hands steady as he fought for his life.

"Hi." Tino whispered to him sadly as he felt a few tears rolling down his face. "Is this it? Is this it for me? Are you coming to take me home now?" He almost chuckled. Of course Berdwald didn't say anything; he was never one for words anyway. Instead he just seemed to keep his arms around Tino directing his attention to the side.

His eyes flashed to something in the corner he hadn't seen before, or at least hadn't taken notice of. A hot water heater, and by the looks of it, it was still pressurized. Tino blinked as he slowly realized what Berdwald was trying to say. Scrambling backwards he kicked an infected that had wandered to close back and threw open the truck door. Leaping inside he slammed the door shut and with the butt of his gun, busted out the window with a hole large enough to fit his muzzle through.

The infected had reached the truck by then, and were shaking it with enough force to jerk his sights and break his focus.

He lifted his rifle and aimed through the scope.

One shot.

Miss, it grazed across the side of the tank but didn't puncture it. He couldn't remember a time where he had missed a target as large as the one in front of him, and he felt a surge of fury raise up in his chest. Swearing he shuddered and took a deep breath, feeling Berdwald's presence once again as translucent fingers wrapped around his own holding the gun steady. If this was a hallucination, it was the most beautiful hallucination he had ever endured. Sucking in a deep breath, he blocked out the sound of the infected clawing at the side of the truck, the screams and hungry groans…

…and he took his second shot.

There was a moment of eerie silence as the bullet ruptured the tank. As if the world had frozen for that brief moment, Tino threw himself backwards and into the backseat just as the explosion rushed through the air in a silent roar. Tino smirked as he felt Berdwald lean over and wrap his arms around him in their one final embrace.

It was okay. He could die like this. He could die in the arms of his husband, protecting everyone that he cared for. He was fine with that. Now he could be with his family, he could be with Peter, and Berdwald, up in heaven.

~X~X~X~

**Let me begin my three part apology by saying what a wonderful reader you are. I realize that it may have taken a tad longer than I originally intended to update...but please do not**

**A. Burn down my house **

**B. Steal my soul. **

**C. Take over a horde of zombies and send them raining down upon me. (One of you has already threatened to do so)**

**Anyway! Here is the latest installment in all its angst filled glory. Enjoy! This time I promise (If school doesn't kill me) to update sooner. **


	28. Resurrection

**Warning: Gore, Angst.**

Antonio was almost through the door. Hacking at the wood standing between the outside world and himself with an ax he had recovered from the back of the small shed, he could feel tears rolling down his face warming his numb cheeks.

Tino couldn't just leave him, not like this. He couldn't just abandon them when they needed him. Furiously he slammed his ax into the thick planks his entire body shuddering with fear and rage.

"Antonio…" Elizabeta's calm voice broke through the strained silence of the room, her cool mint green eyes following his motions calmly.

"I'll get us out of here in time to save him Elizabeta. Then we'll just have to think of another plan to outrun the zombies." His words sounded distant, emotionless in the hopelessness of the situation. Elizabeta felt a small shuddering sigh fall from her lips as she watched the man hack away at the wooden beams. She wished that she could reach out to him, but honestly she feared that the man would strike out at her if she attempted to explain that Tino was most likely dead. There had just been too many infected for him to handle, and though it was killing her to admit, their brave Finnish man was likely gone forever out of their lives.

"Alright." She whispered instead, pulling Tino's coat around her shivering form a bit tighter and lowering her gaze back down onto her knees. Antonio glanced over his shoulder at her when she didn't speak further and grimaced when he spotted the grief on her face.

"It's going to be alright, Elizabeta. We'll get out of here and then we'll find the others, ok?" He stated letting out a small cry of triumph as the wooden plank he was hammering at fell away from the shed with a final crunch. Crouching so he could get a better look he peered out through the hole he had created and felt his blood run cold.

The house that they were hidden behind was completely infested with infected. They were clawing their way through the doors and windows attempting to get at something inside. There were nearly thirty of them in total that he could see from where he was sitting, far too many for them to fight off without weapons of a much higher caliber than the ax in his hands and more numbers on their side.

There were no words that could equate to the hopelessness that rolled through his body as he realized he knew exactly what those creatures were attempting to reach inside the house. There was no way for him to reach Tino, not a single chance in hell that he could get to him.

Shuddering violently he slowly backed away from the door, his eyes filling with fresh tears. He felt Elizabeta pull him into a seated position and leaned up her shoulder clenching his eyes shut with a shuddering breath.

"I…" He began shaking his head with a small hiccupping sob. "I couldn't…" Elizabeta sighed heavily and wrapped an arm around the man's shoulders, tears of her own rolling across her face.

"I know." She whispered glancing at the small hole he had created and quivering when she spotted the infected swarming around the house outside. "I'm sorry. I wish we could have…" Elizabeta's attempt to comfort the man was cut off as an explosion rocked the ground around them. Yelping the duo jumped and rotated away from the noise as the house shuddered and a rush of air and debris flew from the building.

Blinking in confusion as the army of infected outside were crushed under the weight of falling wreckage and shrapnel the duo exchanged startled looks and in an instant were scrambling to the door, pulling out the plank of wood holding the door closed they burst out of the shed and into the soot filled outside.

"What in God's name was that?" Elizabeta demanded in shock as they stared up at the wreckage and the mutilated zombies scattered around them.

"Tino…it had to have been Tino!" Antonio whispered taking off at a sprint towards the source of the explosion in what had once been a garage. Elizabeta was after him in a minute, her hands flying to the weapon

"Antonio…Antonio wait! You don't know what's going to be in there!" Elizabeta cried in surprise scrambling to keep up with the man in the deep snow. Antonio didn't hesitate long enough to even look over his shoulder as he stared determinedly at his destination. "Antonio! Please calm down! How do you know he's even still alive? That explosion was huge!" Her voice fell on deaf ears as the Spaniard began wading through the wreckage scanning over the destruction for the Finn and stabbing his ax into the skull of any of the creatures who were unlucky enough to survive the blast.

Looking around the burnt out space, Elizabeta spotted the hot water heater that Tino must have ruptured to cause the explosion, or at least what was left of it. Most of the tank had exploded into shrapnel and embedded into the walls and infected around them. All that was truly left of the object was the bottom, which was splayed out like a razor sharp flower. Edging towards Antonio she placed her hand on his shoulder. Antonio didn't look up at her, instead his eyes scanned over the area desperately, his face contorting into a grimace of pain as he took in the sight of blood and gore splattered across the room.

"Antonio please…he's not going to be here…if he was…he had to be close enough to shoot at the hot water heater. That would mean he was in this area and well…I'm sorry Antonio, but there's no way that he survived. Antonio that explosion probably attracted more zombies and we need to get out of here if we're going to stay ahead of them!" Elizabeta attempted to ration with the man, her eyes shooting glances towards the steadily lightening tree line, waiting for the infected to begin their assault on the two struggling survivors. Antonio lifted a hand to stop her explanation his eyes locked onto the only standing structure left in the garage.

The truck he had designated had been blown onto its side by the force of the explosion, the hood of the car resting against the cement wall of the opposite side of the garage. The under carriage was strewn with shrapnel and it looked as though almost all the windows had been blown in, but it was still relatively intact, and this gave Antonio the only hope he needed.

"He's in the truck…he has to be in there. If I was Tino and I only had one chance at surviving an explosion like that I would hide in the big steel truck." He explained, moving forward without waiting for Elizabeta to question him.

Moving around the car, Antonio struggled to peer down inside the cabin through the busted out windows. Unfortunately, he was too short to get the view he needed, and soon he was pulling at ruble in search of something to stand on. Realizing that he wasn't going to leave without finding the Finn, Elizabeta moved to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Put me on your shoulders." She ordered calmly, smiling shakily up at him. "I'll check and see if he's in there for you." Almost instantly, a grateful smile crossed Antonio's face.

"Gracias Amiga." He whispered kneeling down so the woman could climb onto his shoulders. "Ready?" He demanded once he had a proper grip on her legs. When the woman nodded, he stood slowly allowing her to brace herself on the truck before straightening completely. "What do you see?"

"I can't…hang on…Wait…I can see him! Antonio he's in here!" She shrieked in surprise her eyes widening in surprise as she spotted the familiar Finn crumbled against the opposite side of the car. Leaning forward she strained to reach him, her hands barely managing to brush against his shoulder. "I can't reach him!" She cried out in distress, her fingers tugging on the fabric in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Try opening the door!" Antonio ordered, attempting to keep her steady while keeping an eye out around them for any remaining infected mobile enough to cause a problem. "Is he alive?" Antonio demanded his voice cracking with anxiety.

"There's no way for me to tell from here!" Elizabeta's voice was strained and cautious as she straightened and attempted to pull the door open with a growl of effort. To her absolute surprise, she managed to pull it open after a moment of struggle. Keeping a hand on the door to make sure it didn't swing back down to strike her in the head she leaned over and stretched her arm down towards the immobile Finn's form.

Pulling the man towards her she winced when she spotted the lacerations and bruises coating the man's unmoving face. Shakily, she pressed her fingers against his jugular vein.

"Oh my God." She whispered. Antonio looked up at her questioningly his eyes wide with fear and anticipation. "Antonio, he's…he's alive!" She cried barely believing the feeble pulse beneath her fingertips. "He's alive Antonio! He's alive!" She laughed, tears forming in her eyes as she looked down at the Spaniard.

Antonio was stunned; his eyes stared up at her with a mixture of disbelief and surprise. Shuddering slightly, a few relieved tears rolled down his face as a relieved sigh rolled from his lips.

"Gracias a Dio…" He croaked out his grip tightening on her legs as she shifted and leaned further into the cab of the truck. "Can…can you pull him out?" He demanded a flicker of hope moving through his eyes.

Elizabeta didn't answer at first, grabbing ahold of Tino's shoulders she attempted to pull him free of the wreckage only to feel him catch on something and stop moving. Frowning she scanned over his body in search of what was preventing him from leaving the car, and felt her moment of hope shatter.

His arm was trapped.

The limb had been crashed in between the dash and the roof, probably when the car had crashed into the wall when it flipped. His left hand, lifted up most likely to protect his face and neck, was the only thing holding him from falling to the other side of the car completely.

"Oh no…" She whispered her hand flickering out to pull back the mangled, blood soaked sleeve that was still covering his pinned arm. "Oh God…" Her voice was no more than a whimper as she revealed the wound. The metal of the roof had dug into his hand, digging through the bone just above the wrist, and had been seared by the heat of the explosion. There was no way for her to remove the metal, and from the looks of his mutilated hand, no way would he be able to use it if she did.

"Elizabeta, what's wrong?" Antonio demanded hesitantly, his voice filled with anxiety and anxious anticipation. "Please tell me he's ok." He begged his grip white knuckled on her legs.

"He's…he's fine." She whispered frantically. "But his arm…Antonio his arm is trapped. I can't pull him out and I can't free it!" She explained attempting to pull out the metal piece with a growl and nearly slicing open her own hand in the process.

"Can you cut what's holding him?" He demanded his eyes catching some movement in the tree line that made him nervous. "Elizabeta…I think we're going to have company soon. Hurry!" He yelped in a panic as she pulled her hunting knife from the sheathe at her side and furiously began hacking at the metal.

"I can't cut through it! The metal has gone all the way through his hand!" Her voice was filled with distress as she furiously attempted to pry the metal free only to find that it had stabbed completely through the hand to the other side.

"Through his…Dios Mio…we don't have the tools to cut through that!" He cried in a panic as an infected stumbled from the tree line. "Can you….Can you pull him off the metal?" He asked hopefully.

"No! It's basically welded to the other side! I…" She broke off as a sick realization filled her mind. Swallowing down the bile that filled her mouth at the thought of what she might have to do, she shuddered violently. "I think I'll have to cut it off." She squeaked.

"Cut off what?" Antonio's voice was tired and filled with apprehension as she glanced down at his wide eyes.

"His hand…I think I have to cut off his hand." She explained just as horrified at the idea as Antonio slowly became.  
>"No…No no there has to be another way!" Antonio protested his eyes flickering from Elizabeta to the infected that were slowly appearing in the clearing behind the house.<p>

"If you can think of one then please tell me!" Elizabeta ordered as her hand tightened around the hunting knife. "It's either we cut off his hand...or he dies. Antonio, we don't have a choice." She insisted.

"But…what if he dies? You don't know how to do this!" His voice was desperate and agonized as he realized that she was right, they had no other choice if they wanted Tino to live. When she didn't respond to his obviously panic induced question he sighed. Either Tino died here, or they took a chance and tried to save his life by cutting off his hand.

Shivering, Antonio sighed in defeat and looked away.

"Ok…what do you need me to do?" He asked brokenly, his heart shattering at the idea of Tino needing to suffer any further. Elizabeta thought a moment as she glanced over at the approaching infected.

"Your belt…I need your belt and then I just need you to trust me." Elizabeta stated calmly, attempting to ease the man's nerves by using a collected tone. "Please Antonio…we don't have time to think about this." Antonio sighed heavily, his eyes lowering down to the ground. As much as he didn't want to hurt Tino, they had no choice in the matter. Elizabeta was right; it truly was the only thing that they could do. Reluctantly Antonio unfastened his belt handing it up to her without making eye contact.

Elizabeta accepted the belt with a small reassuring glance at the man before turning her attention away from the infected that were slowly lumbering their way through the snow. Looking down at Tino, she sighed shakily and fastened the belt just above the wrist cutting off the remaining blood flow to the area. Now came the biggest problem, how to actually detach the hand from his wrist.

She didn't have many choices, she had her hunting knife and Antonio had an ax. She needed the cut to be clean and concise or Tino might bleed out, and that was not something she wanted to do to him. Shuddering slightly she glanced down at Antonio again.

"I um…I need your ax." She murmured attempting to keep her features calm and her voice steady to keep the shuddering Spaniard calm. Antonio nodded and handed her the ax with a shuddering hand. Leveling it over the skin just where the bones of the wrist hit the ulna she closed her eyes with a small horrified shudder over what she was about to do.

"It's alright Elizabeta, he's unconscious he won't feel anything until he wakes up. Just make sure you make it quick." Antonio whispered shakily his eyes locked onto the opening in the garage. "We don't have much time…if you're going to do this, do it now."

"I know…" Elizabeta said, her hands clenching around the ax to steady her grip around the handle. Taking in a deep breath she lifted back the ax and with a small shiver sent it slamming back down.

She had never been more repulsed at herself as the sound of splintering bone filled the air. Looking down she sighed with a mixture of relief and disgust when she realized that the ax had gone straight through his wrist severing it cleanly. She didn't have time to recover from the shock of what she had done though, Tino was bleeding and though most of the blood flow was stemmed by the makeshift tourniquet she needed to stop the remaining flow if she wanted to give Tino a shot in hell at surviving.

"Ok…Ok I did it." She stammered reaching into the truck and hooking her arms under Tino's arms. "I'm going to pull him out now, hold still ok?" She ordered receiving a small nod from the horrified looking Antonio. With a small grunt of effort, she began hauling Tino free from the wreckage. Heaving him through the door proved to be no easy task and it took more than a bit of strain on her part to finally pull him into the open air. "I have him! Antonio, can you kneel down so I can put him on the ground?" She demanded instantly feeling herself moving downward as Antonio used the side of the truck to lower himself to the ground.

With Tino safely on the ground, Elizabeta scrambled from Antonio's shoulders and immediately knelt beside Tino pulling off the coat Tino had given her she tore at her shirt underneath and immediately began binding his wrist tightly. Behind her Antonio stared down at the stump that had once been Tino's hand in shock.

"Ai Dios mio…You actually…is he still alive?" He demanded his grip white knuckled around his reclaimed ax. Elizabeta nodded grimly, tying off the bandage and standing with a sigh.

"We've done what we can here." She explained pulling on Tino's coat again and shivering slightly. "Do you want to carry him or should I?" She demanded only to feel the ax being shoved into her hands as Antonio bent down to scoop up Tino in a fireman's carry.

"I've got him." Antonio muttered glancing down at the blood stained bandage and clenching his eyes shut a moment. "Just keep those freaks off of us." He ordered moving out of the garage. Elizabeta followed after him after a moment her hands clenching around the ax shakily.

"Where are we going?" She asked calmly frowning Antonio didn't hesitate to turn back and explain as he started trudging through the snow determinedly. The sky was beginning to grow lighter as they skirted around the infected at a jog.

"We'll head towards town. If Gilbert and the others made it out that's where they would be headed, and even if they didn't, we need the supplies for Tino when he wakes up." Antonio's voice was stronger than it had been that entire day, his entire form sparking with determination. Elizabeta nodded, keeping pace with the man easily. "Everything is going to be alright Elizabeta…I can feel it." He whispered glancing down at the exhausted woman.

"I hope your right." She sighed shivering slightly, "Because I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."

~X~

"Ludwig…my ankle hurts…and…and I feel like I'm gonna throw up." Ludwig sighed as the raspy voice whimpered in his ear and gently shifted the shivering man's position on his back. Keeping his eyes locked onto the snowy path in front of him he sighed and shot a glance back at him.

"I know Feli, but it's going to be ok." Ludwig smiled shakily, still not believing what he was seeing. "You'll feel better soon, and then we'll find the others." He promised squeezing his knee gently. Feliciano smiled weakly, his face streaked with sweat as his body continued to fight against the virus raging through his quavering body.

"Ludwig…what happened?" He squeaked shivering in Ludwig's jacket furiously. Ludwig grimaced, remembering the terrified look in Feliciano's eyes and the small squeak of terror when he spotted the gun Ludwig had pressed against his forehead.

"You…you passed out when you fell down the hill." Ludwig lied not wanting to tell the Italian that he had been bitten, because at this point he wasn't sure if that was possible. Feliciano frowned his chin resting against Ludwig's shoulder groggily.

"If I wasn't bitten… then why am I so sick?" He demanded hoarsely his mind flickering to the memory of lying on the blood soaked snow. "Ludwig…that zombie bit me! I remember that she bit me!" He pointed out his grip tightening around Ludwig's shoulders.

"I…I don't know what happened Feliciano." Ludwig's voice was no more than a croak as he continued trekking monotonously through the knee high snow. "If I did, honestly I would tell you." He muttered continuing his steady march towards the main road.

"Ok…" Feliciano squeaked out quietly, his grip tightening around Ludwig with a shiver. After a moment he sighed and leaned his head against Ludwig's. "Luddy…why were you crying when I woke up?" He asked softly noticing the immediate flinch that Ludwig released. Ludwig sighed heavily and kept his eyes locked onto the ground. He couldn't even express the initial terror he had felt when the Italian had opened his eyes for the first time and he had thought in that moment that he was going to have to kill him.

"Because…I was afraid I was going to have to shoot you." He admitted receiving a small shiver from Feliciano. "I thought I was losing you, and honestly I…I don't think I would have been able to handle that." His voice quavered as he moved forward, blinking he sent the tear that formed in his eye back to where it came and sighed. "I'm just glad you're ok."

"I'm glad I'm ok too Luddy!" Feliciano beamed kissing his cheek despite the surprised look he received from the German. "Gracias for saving me, Ludwig!" he chirped happily receiving a small hesitant smile from the bigger man.

"I didn't save you Feliciano." Ludwig pointed out, remembering the feeling of despair at being too late to save the Italian. "You saved yourself…you shot that infected and you survived a bite. I don't know anyone who can do that." Feliciano frowned and shook his head.

"You did save me Ludwig! You pulled me out of that ditch, carried me, and then you patched me up even though you could have just left me there!" Feliciano chirped his voice still raspy, but way stronger than it had been when he opened his eyes for the first time. "You're my hero Ludwig! _Ti amo_!" Ludwig felt himself blush as the Italian spoke.

"J…ja." He stammered, his face flushing a deep crimson. "_I…Ich liebe dich auch_ , Feli." He muttered receiving an excited grin from the Italian.

"Do you mean it Ludwig?" He asked happily hugging his neck weakly with what little energy he had reserved. Ludwig nodded slowly and chuckled when the Italian let out a small happy noise and tightened his grip around the German's neck slightly. "Now we just have to find the others and everything will be ok! Right, Ludwig?" He asked receiving a small sigh from Ludwig.

"Ja…we just have to find them." He whispered his eyes locked uncertainly onto the road in front of them.

~X~

Iain wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. His mind was racing as he sped down the streets, occasionally looking back over his shoulder to see if some familiar face would appear in the bushes. Each time Iain risked a look, he was met with nothing but darkness and the outline of trees illuminated by the rear light of the Humvee. Feeling a pang of grief and rage shoot through him, he felt himself unconsciously pull his bottom lip in between his teeth.

Leaning against the back of the Humvee, Arthur had a blanket pulled around his shuddering form as he stared outside into the steadily lightening tree line. He felt that if he kept staring, Alfred would leap from the branches with everyone, Elizabeta, Antonio, Ludwig, Feli, Tino, and Matthew… Shuddering at the impossibility of his hopes he buried his face into his knees allowing the tears to run freely down his cheeks.

The uncomfortable silence was shattered when Gilbert finally piped up from his spot in the passenger's seat the sudden outburst enough to make the brother's jump.

"We have to go back, right now!" He snapped his face contorted with frustration at his current helplessness. Cursing, Iain barely turned towards him before replying.

"No, if we go back now all we'll do is end up overrun by the infected." He growled back not meeting the furious albino's gaze. "We're waiting until morning." The statement was unwavering, and just as livid as the German's. Sighing he ran a shaky hand through his tangled hair as he thought back to the camp, the blur of their actions and the entire group that they left behind. Most of all his thoughts drifted to Elizabeta, what if she hadn't made it out? What if she was infected? Was he ever going to see her again?

He pushed the thoughts away with a jerk when he heard Gilbert's door slam open. Arthur yelped from the back seat and lurched forward in a mad attempt to stop Gilbert from jumping out of the moving vehicle. Swearing Iain slammed his foot down on the break.

"What the fuck are you _doing_?" Iain snapped his temper rising to new levels as he grabbed for the albino, missing by inches.

"I'm going to find my brother and my _girlfriend_!" Gilbert shouted back intentionally emphasizing the word girlfriend to get a rise out of the Scotsman as he leapt from the Humvee with his gun in hand and began storming away down the road. Iain stared after the man with a snarl blind fury plain on his face. He contemplated just driving away, but after a moment of thought he cursed and stuck his head out his window.

"Get in the damn Humvee you suicidal cunt!" Iain yelled after him, spinning the vehicle around with a screech of tires and pulling up next to Gilbert, "Are ye daft? You'll die if you try to get there on foot! Not that I give a rat's ass if you die or not, but right now you and Arthur are the only ones that I know for sure are alive and you happen to be more useful to me alive!" He barked growing furious when Gilbert simply flipped him off and continued walking.

Groaning Iain slammed his hands against the steering wheel and shot a look over his shoulder at the worried looking Arthur. Arthur was staring back at him pleadingly, not daring to speak out against him, but hoping he would consider going back for the others. Swearing when he realized his brother agreed with the German he groaned and stuck his head out the window again.

"Fine, you want to go back? We'll go back!" He felt his rage boil over when Gilbert sent him a victorious look and after a moment got back into the car. "If we die I swear to God that I will come back to life just to mutilate your corpse." Iain grumbled bluntly as he began driving back the way they came.

"I can live with that." Gilbert muttered his eyes flickering towards the outside world again.

It wasn't until they had reached the edge of the forest that surrounded the house that the sound of a large explosion ripped through the air. The Humvee suddenly jerked to a halt as Iain searched for the source of the noise. A large puff of smoke spilled out above the tree line from the direction they came from and the men found themselves staring towards it in shock.

"Ah'm going to guess that was them." Iain pointed out in shock as he put the Humvee back into drive and began speeding his way towards the explosion cite.

~X~

It was nearly two hours until they found the smoldering ruins of the house they had heard explode. The house that had once been a stained wood was now charred and black from the fires caused by the explosion. Most of the large two story house had all but collapsed in on itself several of the main support beams having snapped in half leaving a majority of the house in ruins.

Both Iain and Gilbert threw open their car doors and ran to the piles of what used to be a home. Iain moved up to the far side of the blast radius, throwing open a small shed and peering inside hopefully only to slam it shut again with a curse. Gilbert on the other hand headed straight towards the garage, which seemed to be the source of the explosion. In the center of the crumbling garage there was a large charred truck, sitting on its side and slammed up against the wall. Wincing, Gilbert staggered forward to search through the ruins a blade in hand.

"ELIZA? LUDWIG!" Gilbert screamed into the ashes, as if anyone that had been in the house would have been able to survive such a blast. Unsurprisingly there was no response.

Iain began looking around the yard, taking a dagger and pushing it into the skull of any of the infected that lay on the ground around them be sure that they were dead in frustration. Where the hell was everyone? Did they blow the house up and flee?

"Listen ah don't ask for much…and ah know I was never a good church goer or anythin' but please let her be far away from here by now." He begged almost silently up to the sky when he spotted an infected that was nearly twenty feet away from the building that had shrapnel embedded into its chest and now lay brokenly in the snow groaning and gurgling up at him as he approached.

Iain sighed when he received no immediate response from upstairs and stabbed down into the skull of the infected and then turned to look for more.

"Worth a shot I guess…" He muttered turning when an infected woman let out a challenging scream and lurched at him from behind the shed.

"Iain!" Arthur, who had been helping Gilbert sift through the ruins yelled suddenly over at his brother who was now wrestling with an infected woman with half of her face bitten off.

"Ah'm busy!" Iain barked furiously kicking the infected back.

"Hurry up, please it's…!" He yelled again, glancing down at what he found with wide terrified eyes. Iain groaned and stabbed downward into the creatures face with his dagger, twisting it before looking up.

"What the hell is it, lad?" He demanded furiously his eyes flickering from Arthur's grief stricken face to the pile of concrete he was standing over. His heart throbbed in his chest as he finally realized what his brother had been shouting about. Underneath the ruble he spotted two motionless forms, one sprawled over the other in an almost defensive position as if shielding the smaller form from the blast. The faces were turned away from him, but the female body, though charred from the blast, had cascading brown hair spilling down her back.

"Eliza…?" He whispered before stumbling forward and kneeling beside the two burnt forms. "Is it…?" He asked Arthur his breath nearly catching in his throat. Arthur grimaced and wiped at his eyes with a nod, not looking up as Gilbert rushed over towards them when Iain let out a low moan and knelt beside the bodies. "Damn it!" He shouted when Arthur simply looked at him with a vacant expression,

"I…I'm sorry Iain." his brother hesitantly whispered placing his hand on Iain's shuddering shoulder. Iain hesitated, but after a moment he shrugged off his brother's comforting hand.

"We're done here." Iain snapped, hiding his face from his brother and wiping at his face furiously. "Oi, German!" He snapped his voice cracking as he looked over his shoulder at the distraught albino who turned towards them slowly.

"What…" Arthur whispered as he came closer to the trembling German. "What is that?" He demanded, knowing that the albino was all but shattered.

"I…I found a hand…" Gilbert whispered, pointing towards the severed appendage with a shiver.

"A hand?" Arthur demanded, looking confused. "W…what's your point? There are a lot of arm-"

"It's Tino's…" Gilbert snapped his body shuddering as his hand clenched around something small he had pulled from the hand.

"Tino's? How in God's name would you know that?" Arthur asked looking at Gilbert with a startled look in his eyes

"This!" Gilbert insisted showing Arthur the small gold band he had in his hand. "The ring, it's Tino's." He stammered, his eyes streaming with tears.

"Tino's…" Arthur moaned and slid to his knees. "Does that mean they're all…_gone_?"

"I didn't find the rest of his body… The explosion was big, but there would still be a body." He whispered, "He could be alive, but… it could also mean…I mean he left his ring." Gilbert choked rubbing at his eyes, "He wouldn't leave that behind unless he was in a hurry." he murmured clenching his hand around the ring. "He'd want this." He muttered, "I think it's the last thing he has in memory of Berdwald." Iain had heard enough.

"We're going." Iain growled over his shoulder, heading towards the Humvee with his hands clenched at his sides. "We have more area to cover, and we still need to find your brother and the little guy."

"Tino could be still alive!" Gilbert snapped, "Let me look around to find footsteps! Something!" Iain shot a look over his shoulder.

"If you stay, you walk." Iain snarled hiding his face from the others view, "If he's alive we'll find him, but we won't find him here." He snapped prying open the doors, with a shuddering hand. "We'll go back to the house and check there for your brother." He barked waiting for the others to catch up before slamming his door shut and starting the engine rolling out onto the snow covered main road.

"Iain, what if he's still there?" Arthur demanded. "He couldn't have gotten far with that hand of his…"

"Arthur, if he was there, he's dead." He growled, Gilbert stiffened and shot a glare at him,

"They can't be all dead." He whispered, "Don't give up hope on mein bruder or Tino just yet." Iain sat silently not in the mood to argue, and continued to drive.

~X~

"I found footsteps." Iain called over to the other group members, after searching through the forest around Ivan's former property for hours. "They look big enough to be Ludwig's and these…small enough to be Feli's." He explained when Gilbert rushed over to his side.

"Where? Where do they go?" He demanded a bit too loudly for Iain's taste.

"Shut up you cunt! The infected will hear you!"" Iain growled smacking him on the back of the head. Gilbert flashed him a murderous look but swallowed down the urge to punch him in the face and instead began following the steps with practiced eyes.

"They went…North…" He whispered, trailing after the footprints and pushing aside some bushes. "I used to do some hunting." He informed a confused looking Arthur. "I was also a cop, you pick something's up." He shrugged. Arthur raised a bushy eyebrow but nodded understanding. Iain, frustrated by the lack of progress moved forward and began looking himself.

"There…" He pointed out pointing to some stumbling steps in the snow. "They went to the ditch…holy shit…it looks like they split up…here…" He muttered following the different steps slowly. "Feli's footsteps continue to the ditch, but he was joined by someone, an infected most likely…come on let's check it out." Iain ordered sliding down the icy hill with some effort. Gilbert and Arthur followed after him closely their eyes widening when they reached the bottom.

"Holy shit." Gilbert murmured taking in the enormous pool of blood spread across the ice. "Is that… that's Feli's boot!" Gilbert shot forward picking up the small shoe and grimacing at the torn and blood stained leather on the top part of the boot. "Damn it!" He shouted, tossing the shoe away and holding his head in his hands. "They have to be alive…" He grimaced trying to keep himself together, "

But there's so much blood… His mind reminded him softly. Pacing he groaned,

"There's a dead biter over here." Iain muttered poking at the mutilated body to ensure it was dead. "It was shot… Ludwig maybe?" He suggested. Gilbert was past the point of listening as he groaned and rubbed his temples.

"Why the fuck didn't we come sooner?" Gilbert howled pushing his way past Iain and up the edge of the ditch. Arthur extended a hand for him, but the German quickly shoved him away sending Arthur plopping down into the snow,

"It wasn't safe!" Iain barked, following after him with a scowl when the German shoved Arthur. "If we went back any sooner we'd be dead!" Gilbert spun around at him, his eyes despondent and filled with unimaginable grief.

"Better us than them!" Gilbert spat, his body shuddering furiously.

"Would you idiots shut it? The infected are still here!" Arthur hissed looking at the two bickering men as he pulled himself from the snow.

"There was nothing we could do!" Iain snarled his eyes sparking as he brought himself closer to the fuming Gilbert.

"You son of a bitch!" Gilbert roared furiously his eyes sparking murderously. "I could have saved them! I could have helped them! They would all be alive if you hadn't dragged me away." Gilbert snarled at Iain his body shifting into a more threatening stance.

"Saved them? It was you that left Eliza alone! It was you that didn't go on watch instead of your brother! It was you Gilbert!" Iain shouted pressing his finger painfully into Gilbert's chest. Gilbert's pale face turned a deep red with fury as he snagged the front of Iain's coat,

"You're blaming me?" Gilbert screamed in Iain's face. "You're blaming me for this happening? You bastard I wouldn't have left if you hadn't driven away like that!" Iain stared at him for a moment and raised a thick eyebrow before reaching back and slamming a fist across Gilbert's jaw. The albino yelped at the sudden contact as he was thrown to the ground from the impact.

"Shut yer yap!" Iain snapped at him, and pressed his foot against Gilbert's chest as the man lay on the ground clutching his bruised jaw. Gilbert snagged onto Iain's leg and pulled it out from under him, positioning himself so he could flip himself upright and send a thick kick across Iain's stomach.

The Scotsmen hacked for a small moment before lunging up and tackling Gilbert to the ground. He straddled him with his knees so he wouldn't move and began releasing punches into his pale face. Gilbert held up his hands to block the blows with a shout of surprise.

"What are you two _doing_?" Arthur shrieked, furiously attempting to pull Iain away from Gilbert to no avail as one of Gilbert's legs found its way into Arthur's chest and sent him backwards into the snow. "_Stop_!" Arthur wailed getting back up again and tugging on Iain once again,

"_Get off me_!" Gilbert howled sending a few return punches to the side of Iain's head. Iain blinked a few times, discombobulated momentarily before ramming his elbow across Gilbert's bloodied face finally knocking him unconscious.

"Little fucker…" Iain muttered angrily, wiping the blood out from under his gushing nose and pursing his lips. "I think my nose is broken." He grumbled rolling off the German and looking towards Arthur letting the blood run freely down the front of his face as he pulled his nose back into place with a pop.

"My God…" Arthur gagged looking down at the menagerie of bruises and cuts lacing their way across Gilbert and Iain's faces.

"You've seen worse." Iain snapped pulling a handful of snow to his nose, "God this hurts" He cursed and clenched his eyes shut dizzily, "I'm just gonna sit down…for a second…" He looked up with a groan as suddenly the sound of limping feet staggering towards them filling the air and alerting both of the still conscious men of encroaching infected. "Or not" Iain growled, "Help me get Gilbert back to the Humvee" he growled grabbing ahold of Gilbert's arm and hauling him with Arthur's help towards the vehicle.

**Holy Cow…how long is this?! Just for you guys I nearly double my normal chapter length! Hopefully you enjoyed.**


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